Haphazard Composition
by Verdot
Summary: [Book 2 of Myth and Legend] The hardest struggles are that of the mind. What is Jenova? What causes a mind to schizm? There are no true answers, only questions. Are they willing to find their own truths? VincentxTifa CloudxYuffie
1. In Modo Di Animato

AN: I shouldn't be starting another fic, but this idea wouldn't leave my head! I decided to feature Yuffie in this story too, since she's actually starting to grow on me (I used to hate her, sorry peeps). This story has a couple of themes running through it, one of which is music...so the chapters are named after musical terms and the like. I've babbled long enough...enjoy!

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**Chapter 1 – In Modo Di Animato**

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Yuffie had just about had enough.

She had divined that men were pigs, especially under the influence of alcohol. In the past hour, she heard enough "hey baby"s, "wanna come sit here?"s, and "feisty little thing"s to last her the rest of her natural born life. True, she had finally filled out, and she was damn sexy, but that didn't invite cat calls or touching.

Especially not touching.

The last man who had tried to get a grope in was clutching his waist, doubled over from the harsh treatment his family jewels had suffered. She smiled a little to herself as she flicked her eyes his way, noting the purple flush his face had taken. She grabbed another glass to dry, rubbing it down vigorously.

_I honestly don't know how she did it all those years. This is gawd awful..._

Her life had taken an interesting turn, to say the least. Once all the Materia collections had finished, Yuffie found herself bored and restless, tied down from the tradition laden society of Wutai. So, after a serious conversation with her father, she decided to go out into the world and make a living for herself for awhile. He gave her until she was 25 to make up her mind.

Now she was 22 and seriously considering taking it all back.

Luckily, Tifa didn't live too far, but she had the benefit of being in the quiet of semi secluded countryside. New Midgar was in a nice location, though, near Rocket Town and wide open spaces. The wreckage of its original namesake was left as a reminder, with the ruins of Shinra in plain view. Still, it was a busy place, full of displaced families and drifters.

She was running The Flower Girl now, since Tifa's energies were devoted to caring for the dozen or so children that lived in her Home. Yuffie thought it would be a good opportunity to see what "real work" was about, and maybe chug back a few drinks while she was at it. Besides, Tifa made it look glamorous somehow, and drew many attractive young men around.

But all Yuffie seemed to find were burned out forty something slobs with an attitude problem. Or grabby hands. Or were smelly.

She sighed, puffing out her green-tipped shoulder length hair—another conquest from living on her own. She'd taken to the New Midgarian fashion scene, trading in shorty shorts for ensembles that contained lots of chains, zippers, and metallic objects.

_I feel so tired...and OLD._

The door opened, and she ignored it, seemingly absorbed in her work of drying the beer mugs. The figure stepped up to the bar, and sat down in front of her. She still did not acknowledge the person's presence.

"...Yuffie?" the masculine voice said, suddenly recognizing the shinobi. Her eyes shot up, and her mouth opened slightly, as she was assaulted with the mental image.

"Hiya Spike," she said mischievously, eyes darting around embarrassedly. He smiled.

"Almost didn't recognize you," he said, leaning back casually. She winked.

"A half a year in a bar could age just about anyone," she said tiredly, grabbing another glass, "But for me, that's a good thing, right?" He smirked.

"Why are you here?" he said quietly, eyes searching around the bar. She shrugged instinctively.

"Looking for Tiff, huh?" she said, staring intently at the glass in her hand. He nodded imperceptively.

_Of course he's looking for Tifa. What'd ya think, he came to see YOU?_

"Hard to find people when your mind's all jumbled," he mumbled to himself, fiddling with the collar of his black shirt. She answered him despite.

"Ya, well, she's running some kind of orphanage," she chattered, stacking up the glasses playfully into a pyramid, "'sides...didn't she tell you to come and talk with her, say...in a year? It's only been six months." He frowned.

"Yes," he breathed, "She did say that...I just wanted to give her something I found in Cosmo Canyon..." Yuffie perked up.

"I'll get it to her!" she said cheerfully, with a wry grin on her face. He looked at her suspiciously.

"You sure..." he began, but stopped. He smiled.

"Sounds like a plan," he said, pulling something out from his pack.

_Elsewhere, Hours Later..._

"Why do _I_ have to be the _chocobo_?" the boy asked stubbornly, his small fists at his hips. Tifa giggled.

"Because you have the perfect hair," she said, tousling his blond locks. He scowled.

"Why can't I be a ninja?" he asked, glaring at her with bright blue eyes. Tifa sighed.

_So much like his father..._

"Samiel," she said patiently, "Kale and Jeremy are already ninjas. Besides, wouldn't you want your mom to like it? She loves chocobos." He grinned, unconsciously fiddling with the small pair of goggles he wore on his head.

"Well..." he said, his resolve breaking, "...ok. For Mom." Tifa grinned. Samiel Highwind was an absolute darling when he wanted to be. He gave her a toothy grin, further accentuated by the lack of a front incisor. She gave his hair another tousle before he ran off, bragging about his "awesome chocobo costume."

Her eyes lazily surveyed the scene. It was the beginning of October, and upon suggestion from Rinna, the oldest of her charges, she had begun getting Halloween costumes ready. Some of them would be easy to find, and some would take a little more work. Either way, it was a good idea she got a head start.

"And what do you have in mind, Audrey?" she asked the shy twelve year old girl who stood nervously before her.

"iwnnaboo," the girl mumbled incomprehensibly. Tifa leaned in further.

"What, dear?" she asked quietly, smiling brightly. The girl swallowed.

"I wanna be..." Audrey began, taking a deep breath, "...you. When you were in AVALANCHE." Tifa continued to smile.

"You do know what I wore, don't you?" she asked skeptically, "My fighting clothes are well..." but she didn't need to finish. Audrey nodded her head enthusiastically.

_I do NOT want to see THAT on a twelve year old. Still..._

"Alright..." Tifa said, tilting her head to the side, "I suppose we could... modify it slightly. Definitely need the gloves..." While the wheels turned in her head, Audrey slinked off, making towards her favorite corner, where she hid her notebook.

"You do know why she wants to be you, right?" Rinna's dramatic voice came from behind her. Tifa almost jumped. She turned around to face the fourteen year old, who was standing with a certain measure of authority, her freckled face displaying a knowing smirk. The green streaks in her dark hair made her stand out considerably, as she wanted.

_Why did her hero have to be Yuffie? The gods must have it in for me..._

"No, why, oh wise one?" Tifa joked sarcastically, pleased with the momentary scowl in Rinna's otherwise confident expression.

"Let me give you a hint," the girl began, eyes sparkling with conspiratorial glee, "Tall, dark, handsome, comes to visit you every week..."

_Vincent. I should have known. Almost forgot that Audrey had a little crush on him..._

"Ah yes," Tifa said, brushing off the comment, "That would explain wanting to wear _that_ outfit." Rinna smirked again.

"Just keep telling yourself that..." the girl said, darting away to wreck more havoc on the world. Tifa sighed.

_Which reminds me...where is he? He comes every Saturday, and half the day has already gone by..._

As if reading her thoughts, she heard the soft knock on the front door. She darted over, opening the door with a smile. She didn't realize she was frowning when she saw who it was.

"Hiya, Tifa!" her high voice squeaked. The young woman was grinning, holding some sort of package in her arms. Tifa felt the smile creep back onto her face.

_Great timing._

"Hi, Yuff," she sighed, leaning against the doorframe. The sound of footsteps behind her alerted her to Rinna's presence.

"Hiya Yuffie!" the girl shrieked, dropping her dramatic act. The shinobi gave her a quick thumb's up.

"What's up, kid?" Yuffie asked, ignoring Tifa for a moment. The girl was grinning madly, her version of a shuriken clutched in her hand. Tifa indicated that the ninja should enter, with a subtle flick of her head.

"So, who's running the bar?" Tifa asked, noticing the time. Yuffie shoved the package into her hand.

"...uhh..." she answered, trying to find the right words in her head, "...my friend...Chris. Ya. He's trustworthy, don't worry." Tifa gave her a skeptical look.

"...ok..." Tifa said warily, inspecting the package in her hands. She opened the brown paper slowly, careful not to damage whatever was inside. Rinna and Yuffie were chatting, lost in their own little world. Tifa chuckled at their rambling, and then put her attention back on the package. Once it was free of all the paper, she realized what it was.

_Holy...Vincent needs to see this..._

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AN: Quick note. Samiel means "a slow dry wind" in Turkish. Thought it went with the last name nicely.


	2. Ritornello

AN: More inspiration. More story! This chapter is more contemplative. I think I like switching between the girls' and guys' points of view every chapter, so I'll keep with that pattern until I say so, ok? Anyway, you get to see lots of Cloud and Vincent here, you bishounen crazed fangirls (kidding)...

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**Chapter 2 – Ritornello**

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Cloud was behind the bar, suddenly realizing why Tifa often looked so tired when she was working. Bartending was hell.

He was tired of the men, especially the very drunk ones who called him "pretty lady". Those were the worst. He never thought he looked that feminine, and was almost offended by their jeers. He suddenly wanted to see Yuffie very, very badly, so she could let him go back to the other side of the counter, where he could be vague and quiet, like he often was.

_Vague and quiet...what have I become? What am I?_

He blinked. He was never a very depressed type of person, even when things got to be the worst. Ever since he came back to the world of the living, he was met with disappointment. First thing he discovered was that he had been "dead" for five years. And the second...

_Tifa. I guess this answers the question of whether or not she would wait for me forever. Lesson learned._

He could tell that Yuffie supposed that he was going to go straight to Tifa, lamenting his horrible life. This was not the case, though. He merely intended to leave her the book and be on his way...somewhere. He'd been wandering for a year now.

_I need to do **something** with what I have left of my life. Even if it means I'm alone._

He scowled. Despite it all, she'd been his constant, a beautiful reminder of hope...of life. He never fully appreciated her until after Aeris was killed. The Ancient was someone special, but her constant flirtations and almost helpless attitude only inflated his ego. She wasn't there when he fell...neither times. That was Tifa. Now, she couldn't bear to look at him, it seemed. He reminded her of pain, and of loss; he knew this to be the case. He shook his head. There were people he had to serve, crazed drunkards who needed a fix before they came on to him again...

"Hey there cutie! Another round!"

_Where the hell is Yuffie?_

With her usual timing, she burst in through the door, hair ruffled and miffed.

"Gawd awful punk..." she mumbled to herself. Cloud stared at her with a quizzical expression, and then noticed the wad of gum sticking to one of her green-tipped locks. He couldn't help but smirk.

"What are YOU lookin at, huh, Spike?" she said with annoyance, working at the sticky mess with her fingers.

_She certainly knows how to change the mood._

"Why don't you go over to Tifa's with that sword..." she said, a maniacal glow in her eye, "...and rough up that, Kale kid? He could sure use a lesson in manners..." He chuckled at the absurdity of Yuffie ranting about manners.

"So you delivered the package?" he said bluntly, ignoring her breathy moaning and muttering. She scowled at him.

"Of course I delivered your stupid package!" she said in a huff, stomping her way up the stairs. He suddenly panicked.

_Oh no. You're not leaving me here with these...freaks._

"Yuffie!" he shouted after her, "Aren't you supposed to be working?!"

"I'm on my friggin COFFEE BREAK!" she shouted back, slamming the door to her room.

_Meanwhile..._

Vincent stood outside the house, unable to move a step further. He always did this, debating with himself whether or not he was intruding, and finally making a decision. Usually he went in, but today was an especially difficult argument.

_Even after all this time. Can I really **be** human?_

He'd spent a year after the incident away from her. He needed to sort out this new feeling, something he'd almost forgotten about.

_Absolution._

Lucrecia had forgiven him, and now her soul was free in the Lifestream. He'd been freed of his demons as well; they left him soon after Tiveph was destroyed. He didn't even have his claw as a reminder anymore. He was almost human, and it frightened him.

_If I forget, if I make the same mistake..._

He never spoke with her about what happened afterwards, waking up to find that she had breathed the life back into him. He only listened to her stories, as she told the children, silently waiting in the back of the room. He didn't tell her about the images that flashed through his mind as he lay dying; strangely hoping that he would wake up to her face.

_She breathed the life back into me..._

He'd given her a gift, when he finally stopped his wanderings. Something he carried in his pocket for weeks. The stone he found in Cosmo Canyon, hidden amongst the pebbles, and the chain he bought later. It was Nanaki that finally talked him into going back, after he ran into Cloud.

_Cloud Strife...what a fitting name..._

He'd seen what the loss of time had done to him. Cloud walked like a man who'd lost his purpose, lost his pride...and his love. A part of him almost found it justified that Cloud should feel a little bit of the sting of unrequited love that Tifa had endured for all those years. Still, he couldn't blame the man; he was never a monster.

"Hello, Mr. Vincent," a quiet little voice spoke from the shadows. He turned around slowly, seeing the little girl clutching the green notebook standing against the wall.

"Audrey," he said, lightening his voice, "Why are you out here? Shouldn't you be inside?" She solemnly shook her head.

"Miss Tifa said I could go outside," she muttered, barely above a whisper. He gave her a one sided smile.

"Doing more writing?" he said, casually pointing to her notebook. She nodded.

She was a small girl for her age, skinny and short. Her dark hair and pale skin made her look almost sickly, but if she looked at you straight on, you could see that there was something contemplative behind her shy demeanor. Vincent had taken an almost instant liking to her, as she was quiet, polite and thoughtful...something that most children seemed to lack. That, and she didn't seem afraid of him, like most children often were.

"Are you waiting on her?" the girl asked, turning red from her boldness. He felt a smile tugging at the side of his mouth.

_Clever little one. _

"Would you like to accompany me, then?" he said, extending an arm out to her. She turned a deeper red, nodding with her face towards the ground.

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For this chapter:

Cloud's Theme Song: _Weak and Powerless_ A Perfect Circle

Vincent's Theme Song: _God Put a Smile Upon Your Face_ Coldplay


	3. Affetuoso

AN: Well, hope you're all liking this so far! It's a little more light hearted than "Obsession's Other Brother" (which you should read, so that some of the history makes sense) but there will be serious parts...just of a different variety. Enjoy!

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**Chapter 3 – Affetuoso**

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She had come down, after Cloud's shouting finally got on her nerves. Well, that and she _did_ need to get back to work. 

The door was locked, and she had managed to close on time. Having an ex-SOLDIER with a big sword did have its benefits. She was busying herself with cleaning the counter, while Cloud sat at a table towards the back, undoubtedly muttering to himself.

_Geez, he's sure gotten **weird. **Acts kinda like...Vinnie..._

She shook her head. Cloud may have been confused most of the time, but there was no way he would ever compare to "guilt on legs." Sure, he'd seen Aeris die, confused his memories with his best friend's, gotten killed after defeating Sephiroth, gotten his body stolen by said mental case, and found out that the one woman who loved him _didn't_ anymore... He still was personable.

That and you'd never see him in a **coffin**.

"Hey, Spike!" she yelled over, hoping to pull him out of whatever strange thing he was doing, "Wanna go hang out before bedtime?" She gave him her patented smile, guaranteed to either thrill or frighten the hell out of you.

"...Sure," he said, gradually pulling himself from the seat. He reached over to his sword, which he had propped against the wall.

"Oh no. You're _so_ not bringing _that_," she said forcefully, just before she hopped over the counter. He shrugged.

"Habit," he admitted, putting his hands in his pockets. She narrowed her eyes.

"Ok...what'd ya think we should do?" she asked rocking back on her heels. He shrugged.

_I figured you'd be so...helpful... ugh._

"Alrighty, we'll just have to go clubbin then," she said with an innocent look. Cloud's eyes bugged for a moment, then he relaxed.

"Excuse me?" he asked timidly. She chuckled.

"C'mon, it'll be fun," she said bouncing her way towards the stairs, "But first I gotta change, k?" He nodded, shifting his weight.

"Oh, and you might wanna put on something else too," she said slyly, peeking out from behind the wall that hid the staircase, "You smell like a chocobo."

He sighed and then walked over to where his pack lay.

_This is going to be **so** fun..._

_Earlier, Elsewhere..._

She didn't need to turn around to know he was there. His boots always made a certain clicking sound on the floor, no matter how stealthy he was. She turned around, and smiled widely as saw that he was escorting Audrey. The girl was trying desperately to hide her blush, her face downcast.

_What a charmer. No wonder Audrey's so taken with him._

"Oh, so you finally decided to show up," she said teasingly, hands planted firmly on her hips. Audrey gave Vincent a shy smile and slinked off, slowly removing her hand from his arm. He gave her a wave and then turned to Tifa.

"You cannot expect me to be punctual every time," he said, trying to sound as serious as possible. She laughed.

"Of course, of course," she said, waving her hand at him, as if shooing him off, "Next thing you're going to tell me is that you're being tied down. Blah blah." He blinked.

"I never implied that," he said seriously. She laughed again and then winked, letting him know she was kidding. He relaxed.

"Hiya Vincent," Rinna said, sneaking into the conversation as always. He shifted his weight, always a little uncomfortable in her presence.

"Well, Vince," Tifa said, breaking the silence, "We were just getting Halloween costumes picked out. Have you any ideas for yours?" He stopped all muscle movement, and gave off an impression of a cornered animal.

"No..." he said quietly, swallowing. Rinna and Tifa smirked.

"Oh! You could totally do some kind of couple thing with-"Rinna stopped suddenly seeing the look Tifa threw her, "-or not." She gave a little nervous laugh and decided to go bother Kale—one of her favorite pastimes.

"She's getting more like her everyday," Vincent said, attempting to change the subject. He fiddled with a piece of his shorter cropped hair, a sign that he wanted to go back outside.

_You're not getting away so easily. _

"Hmm..." she said, looking him up and down, "...with hair like that...and your height..." He eyed her quizzically.

_You've certainly improved. I like your hair like that..._

"I have a bad feeling about this," he breathed, standing a little closer. Her eyes snapped up and met his.

"Vampire?" she said jokingly, enjoying the look of pure disgust on his face, "Nah...did you ever have some kind of idol as a kid?" He considered her sudden question for a moment, and then shook his head. She gave him an innocent look, nearly making him chuckle.

"...Well...there was this one thing," he grudgingly began, too charmed by her mannerism, "He was what was called a "glam rocker" in my day..." She was giggling, knowing full well what he meant. He frowned.

_Glam rock? Oh, this is just too fun...didn't think you were the type..._

"...named Daniel Folly. He was my favorite as an adolescent," he finished, frowning again. She smiled.

"Well, you can borrow my makeup," she said, trying to keep her face serious, "Although, you're going to have to do your own tights..." He tried to turn his face away.

_Is he...blushing?_

"And what are you going to do?" he said slyly, his complexion yet again pale. She shrugged.

"I don't know," she admitted, shifting around and clasping her hands behind her back. He smirked.

"It might be humorous..." he began, giving her a quick once over, "If you were a gunslinger. I'll even show you how to carry one." She nodded enthusiastically.

"Miss Teefa!" Kale shouted, longish red hair bobbing behind him as he ran towards her, "Rinna's being stooopid!" She sighed, knowing that she didn't have time to converse with Vincent for long. He nodded, slipping over to where some of the other children were gathered. His mere presence at times would keep the trouble making to a minimum.

But before he went to his usual corner, he noticed something on the table.

"You just need to learn to get along with her," Tifa said, patting Kale on the shoulder. He frowned, crossing his little arms in front of him.

He picked up the book carefully, reading the ancient words on the front cover slowly.

"_Thoughts and Memoirs..."_

"How about you just ignore her next time?" Tifa said cheerfully, waiting for his expression to change, "Besides, you probably bother her just as much." He smirked for a moment, unable to contain that small amount of glee.

"..._By Tiphareth Divisi"_

"...Tifa? What is this?"

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Note: Daniel Folly is the FF7 version of David Bowie. I love the guy, and I thought it would be much fun to have ole Vinnie in makeup and hair like from _Labyrinth_...evil, I know. 

Theme Songs (this chapter):

Yuffie: _Supervixen_ Garbage (hehe)

Tifa: _Surrendering _Alanis Morisette (for now)


	4. Ravvivando

AN: And it continues. I just realized how often I use alcohol in my stories...you all must think I'm some sort of alcoholic...I'm not. I'm underage. :) It just helps to loosen characters up enough to admit things...

Keiei: Well, I didn't know that other meaning for Samiel...interesting stuff. I always choose names before I choose characters; thanks for pointing that out.

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**Chapter 4 – Ravvivando**

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It had taken three shots of vodka and a whiskey chaser, but Cloud Strife was dancing. With Yuffie.

Earlier the pesky ninja had introduced him to her group; mostly disgruntled older teenagers and twenty something college dropouts. If Shinra was still around, these kids would be prime Turk material. At least they had a sense of humor. Though he couldn't quite figure out why one of them, a girl named Rinna, was with them. She seemed a little...young.

_Music is nice...alcohol is nice..._

For the most part, Cloud's head felt like it was gloriously happy; as were his feet. The throbbing beat of the music inspired him somehow, and he had yanked Yuffie into it, firmly holding onto her shoulders. She had protested at first, but he flashed her that smile—a trick he had learned from Zack.

_Hmm...pretty._

Cloud was playing with Yuffie's hair, and seemed particularly fascinated with the green addition.

"Spike," she said annoyed, "I thought I told you to desist holding my hair hostage!" He gave her a goofy grin. She sighed, regretting letting him drink so much.

"Hey, when did you get so pretty?" he said innocently, iron grip still on her hair. She gasped.

"Whoa, you're quite drunk," she said; her speech often improved under the influence of her favorite poison.

"Yuffs!" one of her friends called, "How's about giving _us_ a chance!" Cloud had noticed that several of the girls were friendly to him...very friendly. Even if he was wearing something Yuffie suggested.

_Maybe I should just take this off...it's warm in here..._

He tugged at the odd black shirt, shifting some of the fish netting in a bunched and uncomfortable manner. Yuffie was giving him a strange look, but he just grinned.

"Hot," he said, as if she would understand. Five seconds later, Yuffie was gawking at a shirtless Cloud.

"Um...S-spike..." she mumbled, unable to tear her eyes away, "Y-your...pecs...er...shirt..." He was grinning again, obviously proud of himself.

"Yuffie! Outside!" he shouted, dragging her again across the dance floor. She groaned.

"I didn't realize you were like this when drunk..." she muttered, feeling the chill of the night air suddenly enclose her. Her miniskirt, fishnets, and black tank top did nothing to keep her warm. Her teeth soon began to chatter.

"Stars," he said, awestruck with the celestial display, "...pretty..." She rolled her eyes. Now she understood why he would say "let's mosey" so much...

_Tifa likes stars...I miss her..._

The goofy grin suddenly fell from his face, and he almost looked normal. Yuffie frowned at his sudden change in demeanor.

"You're not going to hurl, are you?" she said, waving a hand in front of his face. It had little or no effect on him; his continued his stone-faced stare. She pulled her arms around her, shielding herself from the cold.

"Earth to Cloud..." she said, balancing precariously on her spike heels. From this perspective, she almost felt taller than him. She liked the brief feeling of superiority.

_Gods, what is it with me? I feel happy and sad at the same time..._

"I guess it's only fair," he began muttering, turned away from Yuffie, "I didn't even notice it until she was yelling at me, holding it in front of my face." She raised an eyebrow, impatiently tapping her toe.

"I guess nothing's really changed," he said quietly, "I'm still fourteen...only I've seen more than I would ever have wanted to..." She cleared her throat.

"You wanna know what your problem is?" she said suddenly, looking at him sternly. His eyes glazed over, and upon noticing this, she makes an annoyed sound in her throat.

"You dwell on things far too much," she says, feeling wiser with the alcohol pulsing through her veins, "You're the whiny boy that nobody likes...and you are the only reason for that. Gawd! You can't even be drunk for long without contemplating such a thing."

"What do you care?" he said smoothly, like pre-rehearsed lines, "You're just a stupid princess anyway..." She clenched her teeth, and he realized too late what he called her.

"Fine! Enjoy being such a lonely stupid jerk!" she shouted at him, stomping off to find her friends.

_Damn. I need more vodka..._

_Meanwhile, Elsewhere..._

He was reading, having found out the strange circumstances in which Tifa obtained such a book, and was oddly at ease. He would have to thank Nanaki for forcing him to learn Cetran to a level that he could read most of it. A few passages confused him, and not having his translation guide on hand, had to make do with what he could read without it.

"Was not!"

"..."

"Was not!"

The sounds of another inevitable argument with Kale were already underway. Vincent couldn't help but notice the little trouble maker's resemblance to a certain Turk they once fought, but he kept his comments to a minimum. He just hoped it wasn't one of that man's undoubtedly numerous illegitimate children. That would just be too ironic.

"Boys! I thought I told you that you weren't allowed to talk to each other until tomorrow!" Tifa's exasperated voice rang through the large room clearly and distinctly, giving him cause to look up. She was standing over the two boys, hands on her hips, jaw clenched, and looking like she would rein fire upon them. Kale was staring her down defiantly, while the other boy, Caleb, was staring at Kale, pleading with him silently to stop his unnecessary bravery. Tifa wasn't angry; she had a much different way of expressing that. It was her assertion of her own authority, something that Vincent used to know how to do.

_Back then, all I had to do was look and someone and they understood. And I hated it._

"But Miss Teefa..." Kale whined, eliciting a copious groans from other children in the room.

"No story time for the both you," she finally commanded, laying down the worst of punishments. Both boys' eyes grew wide, and a quiver began on Kale's lip. Caleb just shrugged, disappointed but not fazed. Vincent smirked, but then turned his look unexpressive, as Tifa glared at him.

He resumed his reading, turning the world away with the concentrated focus of his eyes. He knew she would talk with him later, once the children were put to bed.

"_My mind is on fire, impassioned with the thoughts of a new tomorrow. These humans...an intriguing race for certain. There are some that have begun to suspect Ayin of fool play... How could they think that of an angel? Her ways are strange, but interesting. It's not everyday that someone falls from the skies."_

_That's right, Gast named her Jenova, it's fitting that the Cetra called her something different, more organic..._

_Some Time Later..._

"They'll put gray hairs on my head," Tifa said slumping down with an exhaustive sigh. He lifted an eyebrow delicately, eyes still affixed on the page.

"_They call it love, what I feel for this angel. My sister, she prods me about it. But that cannot be it; she is far too above me for mere **love**--that preconceived emotional response. Maybe it is a form of ideal love, making her the embodiment of all that is good and right in this little planet. We she speaks, I cannot hear the Planet, and for once, I am not afraid..."_

"Are you even listening?" she asked, her head leaning over the book, pieces of her hair falling into his line of vision. He looked up, frozen with the realization of her proximity. He hoped that the flicker on unease didn't show through his eyes, as he was assured his facial muscles were behaving. She smiled, a relaxed and easy smile, finally having his attention.

"I apologize, I was reading," he said quietly, swallowing hard upon finishing his phrase. Her eyes darted to the page, eyebrows furrowing upon realization she could not read it.

"I remember what Tiveph's Cetra name looked like..." she muttered, still hunched over and idly tapping her chin with a fingernail.

_I need air...this is..._

"What kind of things does he write about?" she asked finally standing upright. Vincent let out the breath he was holding and flipped through a couple of pages of the book.

"Mostly about his observations," he mumbled, avoiding her eyes, "Seems like he was absolutely enamored with Jenova. Her mind control abilities must have been absolutely stunning back then, even more so than recently." She considered his words, and gently took a seat on the couch next to him. He automatically shifted over to the opposite side.

"That makes sense," she contemplated, nervously fiddling with a lock of hair, "But I wonder...why was he so obsessed with emotion? Like what he did to Cloud...and to you..." The last part was barely above a whisper, subtle and breathy.

"I have not read that far," he deadpanned, lowering his raised eyebrow, "Maybe it was just an extension of his ideal..."

"I want to talk about it," she said with a gentle push; the tone of voice she used to coax the children into eating their vegetables.

_Can I? With you so close..._

"I do not think it is wise," he said quietly, closing the book gently, "We should not dwell on the past." She frowned, filling her whole face with discontent. He would not be getting away so easily tonight.

_I already told you she forgave me. About what Tiveph said. Why must you pry into the worst part...?_

"'And he would be one to have dared look upon perfection, and thus fall for the transgression'..." she recited, eyes closed to help recall the memory, "'The path to Hell lies in their eyes. Do not be fooled by their smiles, their amorous sighs...'" He found himself staring whilst her eyes were closed, drinking in the natural warm her face exuded.

_Oh, sin certainly looks like a woman's face. A beautiful woman..._

"The legend?" he asked, wanting to break the thick tension in the air. She nodded, eyes still closed, lips parted. He had to fight to keep his eyes off her; the serenity of her form was all too tempting.

"Vincent?" she asked, barely a breath upon her tongue, "Do you believe in absolution? Do you think he'll ever...forgive me?" Her eyes opened, pleading and full of guilt, and he was troubled by them.

_I've never tried... _

"He already has, Tifa," he said gently waiting for her warmth to return, already missing it, "He just has yet to forgive himself." Then, with one swift movement, she broke the unspoken barrier, clinging to him. His eyes grew wide, and his body didn't seem to process what had happened; it just had enough time to tense.

"Just let me stay here for a moment. I'm not asking for anything..." she whispered into his shirt. She pulled on his hands, human and prosthetic, placing them around her shoulders.

_Maybe...just this once. _

He heard a small noise in the back of the house, and looked up in time to see Rinna's unsteady figure slip past towards the bedroom. Their eyes met for a second; she with a frightened deer look, and he with a guilty expression on his face. Then she smirked and went through the door.

_I won't tell if you don't tell..._

"...I would have chosen Hell..." she breathed, too quiet for him to hear over the beating of his heart.

* * *

More Music!

Club Music: Any Andy Hunter song. Techno is nice.

Rinna's Theme: _Teenage Alien Nation_ American Hi-Fi

Cloud's Angsty Theme: _A Better Place_ Vast

Vincent and Tifa's Theme: _The Dream Within _Lara Fabian (credit music for FF:The Spirits Within) Explains the nature of their conversing...


	5. Aleatory Homophony

AN: Blame this on insomnia. I haven't slept for 48 hours...

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Aleatory Homophony**

* * *

Before finding the real world, she could let herself believe in anything. Her mission was simple; her problems were clear. She had to be it; the warrior, the princess. The fine line she walked was half the thrill and half the agony. Her culture was one of honor and tradition, and like the daughter she was, only wanted to live up to it. Her father was stern and misguided, but he had a sense of righteousness, and justice she always strove for. That's why she had hated him, back when she was young enough to allow such emotions.

That's also why Yuffie Kisaragi never let anyone call her _princess_.

When the fury wore off, all she wanted to do was to sit. Sit and let the night numb her; the cold often allowed her throbbing head to think.

_Think... why would I ever want to do that? It'll only go back to... him..._

She couldn't help but revert to an old mindset, back when all she cared about was her honorable thievery. He didn't say much, and it was probably due to the alcohol more than anything, but it had stuck in her head long after her anger wore off. Cloud Strife had said she was pretty.

_Back to the old school girlish crush, eh Yuffie?_

She shook her head, ashamed of her seemingly shallow emotion. She was sixteen, and somehow roped into saving the world... Could she help that magnetism he had? That grudging sort of leadership that would make her want to die for his cause?

_Lost little boy... humph. Gawd, doesn't he see how many have loved him?_

"Yuff? Is that you?" a tentative voice called, walking casually up to the bench.

_Get lost Spike. I want to be mad at you._

"Ya," her voice spoke hesitantly, without the permission of her mind, "Whaddya want, Spike?" He breathed out, making misty clouds in the air. Then, after a few seconds of seemingly arguing with himself, he sat down, giving her two feet of space. She didn't look at him as he sat down. Her stare was transfixed on the city lights.

"Listen, before this gets...weird," he began, fumbling for his speech, "I want to say... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." She stayed silent, watching her own breath as it came out in gentle icy puffs. He sighed, and tucked his arms behind his head, leaning back a little.

"You're no princess," he said slowly, wincing at his lack of tact, "...what I mean is..."

"I'm not ladylike enough for that sort of thing?" she spat out suddenly, gripping the seat of the bench tightly. He winced again.

"No, no... gods, I shouldn't have drank so much," he whispered, sorting through his fogged head, "...You're not _that_ kind of lady. But you're certainly a woman; you'd have to be blind _not _to see that." She glanced over at him, noting that fact that he had a shirt on, though not the one she had given him. She hadn't realized how long she had been out there; time had a way of slipping away from her.

_No no no no... don't flatter me. Don't give me that. Tell me I'm a brat... anything..._

"...You really clean up good, Yuff," he continued, not quite sober enough to look at her, "It's strange what five years can do... everyone's changed." She snorted, unable to contain her voice any longer.

"Ya, well, you're still as schizo as ever," she said, grinning a little, "You don't stop to think much, do ya?" He shook his head solemnly, not having noticed her change in demeanor.

"Never have, I was trained to be a fighter, not a thinker," he admitted, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. She poked him lightly with her finger, making him jump.

"Fighter, huh?" she teased, and then lowered her voice, "What does it really mean? Why _are_ we warriors?" He shook off the surprise of her sudden contact and clenched his jaw, desperately trying to think of a response.

"Some people just have it, I guess," he replied, finally letting his gaze fall on her, "It's in our minds, hidden behind all that 'advanced thinking'. It's that animal part." She smirked, happy to have gotten some response from him.

'_Fighter not a thinker'? That's for sure... _

"So what does an unemployed swordfighter do during peacetime?" she asked mischievously, watching as the effects of the cold cleared the fog in his eyes, "'Cause I could use some help around the bar..."

"As long as I get to be the bouncer," he said quickly, arching an eyebrow, "So the next time some guy calls me 'pretty lady' I get to kick his ass."

"Oh, and one more 'princess' out of you and you're unemployed, got it?"

_Elsewhere..._

"_If you choose Hell, you will meet your demon," Tiveph kept steady, seemingly unaware of her movements, "You will have damned all of humanity in the process. Is his life worth that much?"_

She awoke with a start, eyes snapping open and wide. She was panting, sweat pouring down her face. She hated how this happened every morning, hearing Tiveph's voice before anything else, taunting her with choices and lives...

_Calm down. You made the right choice. You saved both of them..._

But did she? Cloud was an aimless wanderer, and Vincent was a specter that haunted her home, coming and going with the passing breeze. If it weren't for the children, she would have felt like a person living with ghosts.

_A ghost? That's harsh... he's actually come a long way since you first met him._

Then Tifa heard it, the unmistakable sound of Vincent's whisper. That was when she realized that he was sleeping underneath her; on the couch where she forced him to hold her.

"...I'm so glad...you're...alright..." he was muttering; caught in the throngs of dreamland. She held her breath, curious as to what he saw behind closed eyelids. She chance to lean in closer to his face, hoping to catch more snippets of his speech.

"...to see...face...came...for me..." he continued, the murmur softer than before. She leaned further still, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek, warm and light.

Then he moved, grasping her close, and sloppily kissing... her nose.

She couldn't suppress the immediate giggle this strange position caused, and when his eyes darted open, only started into a full out laugh. Once aware of where he was, he backed up, removing his mouth from her nose and tried to crawl out from underneath her.

"That must have been some dream!" she laughed, amused by his frightened expression. He was almost free of the couch, when she grabbed his wrist.

"What _were _you dreaming about?" she asked, unable to keep her curiosity at bay. He frowned, trying to yank his hand away.

"...Nothing," he said, trying to keep his expression neutral. She smirked.

_I never did ask him about how well Lucrecia and he got along..._

"What were _you_ dreaming about?" he asked, a desperate attempt to shift the focus. Luckily for him, it worked.

"Tiveph," she said plainly, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice, "...The choice he gave me. Happens most nights..." If there was ever a thing that her and Vincent talked about, it was dreams. In the odd period of time between Meteor and Tiveph, Tifa had worked to make him speak, and found common ground with their nightmares. Neither of them ever told the complete story, but enough for Tifa to feel like she had made a difference.

"What choice?" he asked, blinking. Then she realized her blunder.

_Gods! I never told him about that!_

"Oh, life or death...that sort of thing..." she nervously answered, letting go of his wrist and trying to get off the couch. This time, however, he grabbed her.

"Tifa," he said, in the tone that meant he was demanding something. She frowned.

"What's done is done, obviously I chose right..." she answered sheepishly, avoiding his gaze. He gave a disapproving snort.

"As I thought," he said, releasing her from his grasp, "...The children will be awake soon. I will be leaving." He cautiously disentangled himself, standing up with a graceful unease.

"Please stay," she gasp out, worried by his expressionless stare. He shook his head, eyes downcast.

"I will see you at the end of the month," he replied coldly, turning his heel and making his way towards the door.

_Good going Tifa! You've just alienated your best friend..._

But she didn't have time to dwell over it, for the children were already shuffling about, the morning calling them out of slumber.

* * *

All things pertaining to Tiveph are referring to "Obsession's Other Brother", so if you still have not read it, you might want to....

Cloud and Yuffie's Theme: _Beautiful Disaster_ American Hi-Fi


	6. Sonata DemiVoix

AN: Ugh, I'm sick. So blame any weirdness on that. Also, I love bold italics. Sorry. Anway, anytime you see **_bold italics_** it's the voice of something inside someone's head. Not their own thoughts. Trippy? Yes, but if you've read Obsession, I do that quite a lot. I think I've held back pretty well in this story so far...

Stole the line "Did we lose to the memories?" from the Advent Children trailer. Evil, I know.

* * *

**Chapter 6 – Sonata Demi-Voix**

* * *

_He only saw the world as specters; faint photographs and tissue paper tracings. He felt hapless in its flow, simply watching as the world went by. Sometimes he could see faces; bold in one instant, silent and staring with brilliant clear eyes, and then they too faded._

_**Did we lose to the memories?**_

_She was sitting at a desk, carefully writing in the pages of a book, occasionally dipping her pen into an inkwell. Soft brown hair tumbled in waves down her back, secured in a high ponytail. She turned around, as if feeling his intrusion._

_**What if I forgot you too?**_

_Her face shifted, green eyes remained as the face became younger; smiling. The hair was still back, but two curls had loosed themselves, hanging delicately near her ears. He looked down towards her hands, which were shaking uncontrollably. The pen dropped slowly from her fingers, lengthening and sharpening, becoming a wickedly curved blade... _

Catalysts of his unlocked psyche, they were; beautiful faces of women. When he had nightmares, or when he had dreams, he could see them. Cloud never had an easy sleep, nor a completely unsettling one. He never saw violence, and he never directly saw pain. But he saw them, and in their eyes he knew what was happening, if only briefly.

_Are they memories? Of what?_

It was midnight, on a day when Yuffie failed to convince him to go anywhere. He always came out of sleep slowly, so when the dream ended, he lay in bed for awhile. The musical tones of the nightly serenade crept into his sensitive hearing, giving him cause to leave the comfort of his sheets. He moved carefully, cat-like, covering his trail with the vacuum of a silent and empty room.

Outside, there were no stars, only the ice-clouds of late October, painting the cathedral sky. The lights of the city gave little warmth, only furthering the opaque and unyeilding dominion the clouds held. He relaxed, feeling comfortable that the heavens were not looking down on him, but covering their eyes with a thick veil.

_I feel like a rock in a stream... the world is water, rushing past me. The only thing that happens to me is that I stay and am worn down..._

He shook his head violently, splaying his mussed spikes out like a dancer's skirt. When he finally regained his stillness, his blue eyes glowed, the heat of the mako pulsing with his mood. Anger. Frustration. These were things that he knew well.

But did he know redemption?

_Isn't the hero supposed to feel something, after it's all over?_

For the briefest moment, the clouds parted, revealing the sliver of a moon, like a bow poised to strike. It was a violent moon, slightly red tinged from the heat of the city below. He stared at it, even when the sky claimed it again, so opaque that the red suffered under its painful grasp, not even a dull pink to signify its presence. He knew it was there, it burned in the backs of his retinas.

He felt it, that dormant part of his personality, soothing him as his blood pressure rose. He vision was so clear it almost hurt, the outlines of everything taking on such a sharp contrast.

He was tired of being a failure.

His own weakness sickened him, and cradled him. He wanted to destroy himself, destroy this planet... He had wandered, and found that the world have moved on without him. There were children, and there were homes. So many flowers... the planet was fluorishing. And he saw himself, standing before them all, sword brandished, covered with crimson stains...

Cloud gasped, trying to feel his hands, trying to feel anything of his physical form.

_No! I can't feel that... I'd be no better than..._

He wanted to feel real. That awful hiss in the back of his mind, he knew it well, and he desperately wished for it to be gone. There was no room for it, not if he were to join that planet that had so easily forgotten him.

_**Then forget it, as well. Why do you crawl back to that which has forsaken you?**_

He gritted his teeth. That voice, so close to his own, had torn from him the last chance for his happy ending. And as sure as he was breathing, he had been the event that had created it. He clutched his hands tightly and wrapped his arms around his form, holding onto physicality like a raft.

_No, Surrender. I will not be broken by you._

Incomplete. Grasping. Those were words he knew well, but for all his defeats and failures, it was what had made him the better one. It was that stubborn little part of his mind that would not go away, and now he held onto it, knowing finally what it was.

"I may not know what I am," he said quietly, weaving the tune with the tip of his breath, "But I am."

A cricket chirped, scraping the bow across his body's violin, harsh and lovely folk music. He heard it, making sure not to move, to keep from breaking the feel the nighttime enclosed him in.

She did not make a sound when she heard him speak. High up in a tree, Yuffie unwittingly become his audience. Her stealth hid her, as she watched with a look of horror and something else, something she had forgotten somewhere along the way...

_Elsewhere..._

For all its splendor and purpose, the daytime never suited him much, especially when it came to reading.

Vincent furrowed his eyebrows, hunched over the kitchen table, papers and books scattered haphazardly about. He was in a stalemate, his mind willing him to probe further, while his body craved sleep, if only a little.

He forced himself to write a little more, the pencil making quick precise noises as it hit the paper.

_What does it all mean? Why Tiveph? Why?_

He knew that the past was somewhere a person could not live. He'd already learned his lesson tenfold. Still, when Tifa handed him the journal, something sparked inside of him, a curiousity that he thought he had long forgotten. If he wasn't careful, it would consume him. He'd been working on the translation for quite a time now, and had come to something familiar.

"_I've decided to track down the scattered members of the other half of Lucrecia's line, now that she is in stasis. Most of them turned into harlots, gamblers, and other such unsavory characters. One, a certain woman named Rose, seemed fitting, but she became sick when I tried to introduce an Emotive to her, and has passed away. She did leave a daughter, however, and I am looking into that possibility..."_

He read the lines over again, making sure that he got the inflection and tone properly down. Rubbing the sleep from his face, he continued.

"_She lives in Nibelhiem, where the old labs are located. I was never one to believe in Fate, but there is a certain beauty in how things are coming together... The girl is still young, but promising. There is a odd little boy that seems attached to her, with a wonderful set of emotions. Perhaps the time is near for the Exulted to return to his origins..."_

_Tifa._

Most of Tiveph's notes were filled with half-baked musings and careful observation. Vincent had gotten through a good portion of the book, and was frustrated when he discovered that parts were missing. He had learned that Lucrecia had been aware, if not directly involved with the actions of Tiveph. That had stung for a moment, nearly causing him to fling the book out the nearest window.

But now, he was on the thresold of matters which effected the present.

He felt almost voyeuristic, delving into their past. They; his comrades, and in some cases, his friends. Especially... her. He told himself that he was doing this to give her peace, to right the wrongs that had been done in her life. Even he couldn't keep up the illusion for long.

_Tifa._

Dreams could lie, he knew, but they only came from the dreamer's mind. And he never could forget dreams, after a couple decades of nightmares, he was all too aware of the dream world. Especially dreams of beauty, of moments he had never had the priviledge to live. Dreams that he felt for days after, a slow ache in his old tired bones...

He laid his head on the table, knowing that he could will his mind to remain awake, but at least his body needed a rest. Sometimes he dared to wonder if he was getting older, perhaps, maybe he would finally age. Usually he dismissed such hopes. Too much hope never did him any good.

"Are you still awake?" a cautious voice asked, causing him to lift his head from the table. The figure stepped out of the shadow of the stairwell timidly.

"You should be sleeping," he whispered, regarding her with tired eyes. She shrugged.

"I couldn't help it," she said softly, "Mother's instinct. I saw the small light and wondered what was happening." He gave her a twitch of a smile.

"You don't have to look out for me, Shera," he lightly scolded, with a sleepless enthuisiasm. She averted her eyes.

"You still have nightmares, don't you?" she asked, shuffling over in her slippers towards the stove. He cringed a little.

"Yes," he answered, and then admitted, "and no." She hid a small smile as she rummaged through a cabinet.

"She was a pretty thing wasn't she?" she asked, shy and knowing, carefully using the past tense. He nodded, she didn't have to turn around to see that.

"Yes she is," he breathed and tensed upon saying it. Shera gave a small chuckle, filling the teapot with water.

"You know, Cid isn't my first husband," she whispered setting down the teapot and shuffling over to another cabinet, "...Samiel isn't even my first child." He fiddling with his pencil, trying not to interrupt her. She smiled nostalgiacally.

"I suppose that everyone has lost something," she continued, voice gaining more steadiness, "...Especially in those days. I can still see their faces, in my dreams." She took a deep breath, collecting the last of her calm.

"I'm older than most people would guess," she whispered, slow and unassuming, "My son would be around Yuffie's age now, I would think. Dark haired...brooding...you remind me of him, you know." He inhaled stiffly, gripping the edge of the table.

_So that is why. I can see why you need to help so much..._

"I am always thankful for your kindness," he breathed, releasing the table, "And I am sorry for your loss."

"I'm not," she sobbed, "...not anymore. I have a wonderful husband and a beautiful son. Not that I love them any less...but..." She reached up into the cupboard and grabbed a small container from one of the shelves.

"Absolution," he whispered, turning to her, "Have you found it?" She choked a small sob.

"Hell, Vincent," she replied, grinning through her reddened and wet face, "Nobody ever really finds it. Sometimes you can get close, though. And then, you can live." She struggled with the container, her hands shaking. He stood up slowly, and approached her.

"Need some help?" he asked, indicating towards the container. She nodded, chuckling a little.

"See?" she said, falling back into her usual vocal patterns, "Then you live."

_Then you live. I think I understand._

* * *

Theme Songs for this Chapter: _Jenova for Classical Piano _Noir (absolutely gorgeous re-mix of the song, find it and download it if you can) and _Christophori's Dream _David Lanz 

AN: More action with the ladies later. I find that monologuing and such was necessary...


	7. Precipitato, Ancora, Ritenuto

AN: Alrighty, more oddity on my part. Hope I'm not too obscure, it's often a problem of mine. My villain last time was quite complicated, so trying to tie up his lose ends is quite an endeavor. Oh, and pardon the longness. The Cloud/Yuffie part took a little longer than I intended.

HypernatedRikku: The titles are musical terms. So, basically, they are Italian or French or whatnot. Usually Italian. They usually describe the general tone of each chapter. Try a google search for "musical terms" or such if you want to learn more.  Oh, and "ancora" means "still" in Italian.

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Precipitato, Ancora, Ritenuto**

* * *

Fitful and restless were the best ways to describe her attempts at sleep. So, when she had rolled over for it seemed the fiftieth time, Yuffie jumped out of bed, intent on doing something. She rummaged through her drawers, and when she found enough to make herself decent, she padded out of the room. 

_Outside. Yes, that'll be good. Get some exercise..._

She hadn't intended on seeing Cloud that night. She'd fully intended on going to the club with her friends, feeling young and reckless, and whatever other things a person her age should do. Yet, somehow she had ended up sitting in that tree, watching as he fought something, something she didn't understand...

_What's wrong, Cloud? Really... I know it's more than Tifa..._

Her exodus from the bar had been swift, and she'd forgotten how quickly she could actually move. Her feet were on a path, well worn and clear. She was heading towards the edge of town, where a bench awaited her. Her thinking place.

_Thinking? Since when did I do that so often...?_

She tried to divert her attention from her thoughts, and instead focused on the twists and turns of the path. She was so focused, in fact, when she reached the bench, she didn't notice that someone was already sitting there.

"Yuffie?" the quiet voice spoke, before she had a chance to look up and slink away. She cringed a little and stared at him, hoping that she wasn't gawking.

"Hiya, Spike," she said casually, keeping her usual pretense. He smiled.

"Looks like we got the same idea," he said, patting the bench beside him, "Sleep problems?"

She nodded, and complied with his unspoken request. She felt odd, walking around in her sweatpants and sweatshirt, and silently wished she had time to change. But she was here now, and they were sitting, each with thoughts miles away from each other.

_Get a hold of yourself. Just stay away from asking him about that one night..._

"I just felt restless," she answered, hoping that he wouldn't prod. He didn't.

"I s'pose even you get that way too," he replied, a response more to himself than to her. It always bothered her a little when he did that, speaking like he was the last person on the damned planet. So, in her usual fashion, she told him.

"Spike, what the hell's _really_ wrong?" she demanded, forcefully concerned. He smirked a little.

"I see all these faces," he began, helpless to resist, "In my dreams. I know them, and they are so kind... so fucking kind..." He gripped his fists tightly, the underlying aggression of his nature flitting beneath the surface. She frowned.

"I think you're the only person I've ever known to be angry about kindness," she spoke, plainly and clearly, crossing her arms in front of her. He shot her a warning glance.

"You don't understand," he whispered, harsh with his blue eyes glowing, like ammonia stars. She met the challenge, staring him down with defiant dark Wutain orbs.

_Don't challenge me. I'm no stranger to regret._

"I understand well enough," she spoke, uncharacteristically soft, "You're left with unpleasant memories. Get over it. There isn't a thing you can do to change the past." He loosened his fists, and leaned his head back, searching the sky for a break in the clouds.

"No, I can't," he sighed, relinquishing his anger in icy clouds of breath, "But she was smiling, even at the end... why do the survivors always feel it more?" She loosened her arms, letting them fall gently at her sides. She took a deep breath, probing her mind, letting the heat of her stubborn blood cool.

_Well, what do you say Yuffie? What do you say?_

"'Cause the dead don't feel," she said slowly, wishing she had a better grasp of words, "They don't see them die. We did." His eyes traveled from the sky to her, surprise and secrecy in his face.

"I'm glad I ran into you, Yuff," he said quietly, staring her down, "...You talk sense. There's no other way to describe it." She smirked and poked his shoulder.

"Hell, you need the sense talked into ya, Spike," she said teasingly, relaxing as the tension fell out of the air, "Now you just gotta learn how to reign in those mood swings and you'll qualify as a decent human being." He laughed, a full and uproarious melody. Soon she was laughing too, and for the moment, she felt as if she were in the right place.

For the moment.

"So, why are _you_ having problems sleeping?" he asked, the glint of laughter still in the corners of his vivid eyes. She gulped.

_Shit. Well Yuff, are ya gonna tell him that he's the reason? That you've been harboring a crush on him since you were sixteen? Right, that's the perfect thing to tell the guy who doesn't even know who he is half the time..._

"Too much sugar or something," she said sheepishly, hiding her sudden nervousness behind her big fake smile, "You know me." He raised an eyebrow, a clear sign he didn't buy her excuse. She almost felt like buckling under the pressure of his gaze.

_Shit shit shit..._

"Yuff, Tifa told me, you know," he said smooth and clear, "About your little crush on me." She gasped, eyes wide and bulging, horror etched onto her face. And he chuckled, seeing her in a state like that.

"Don't worry," he laughed, patting her shoulder, "I understand it was a long time ago. You were just a teenager..."

_Tifa is dead. So so dead. Revenge, revenge will be mine... all I have to do is tell Vinnie a little this, and a little that..._

"...It's not like it was anything serious Yuff," he continued, while one of her eyes twitched, "If anything, I'm flattered. You've really shaped up into something."

_...Maybe I'll get Rinna in on it. Yes, someone on the inside..._

"...Wait," she finally felt her head catch up with his words, "You're not disgusted or anything? I was kinda a brat back then and all..." He grinned, bringing back that usual flutter in her stomach.

"Well, it was a long time ago," he said plainly, "It's not like you still feel that way. You're too old for such silly little crushes. You shouldn't be ashamed of something like that." She tried to hide the flicker of disappointment in her eyes, looking distractedly off in the distance. Then, she clenched a fist, unsure of his reaction.

_Silly little crushes? Dammit Cloud..._

"Seems like you don't understand me either," she said coldly, flexed her muscles to stand up, "I'm not Tifa." He looked at her puzzled, unsure. She breathed out, faltering between anger and exasperation and back again. She'd always known such things as attraction and affection were the equivalent of a car wreck. Fast, total, and ultimately damaging.

"I never claimed..." he began and then switched thoughts, "...If only... damn. I don't want you to be Tifa." He gritted his teeth on the last word, stubborn and thoughtless, and horribly blind.

_This is Cloud. Stubborn, thoughtless... this is what I can't get out of my mind._

"And I just want you to be you," she said quietly, "Now open your eyes before you lose another lifetime." She finally felt herself off the bench, she almost felt as if she were observing her actions, floating somewhere outside her body. She saw as she turned around, grabbed his chin fiercely...

...and kissed him. Quickly, fully, and intensely.

A car wreck. That best summed up Yuffie's ideas on love and attraction. And she was going to make sure that Tifa ended up as totaled as she was. It was only a matter of time.

_Elsewhere..._

Tifa had scolded herself when he left, knowing that she had done the one thing that could get under his skin. She had lied, plain and simple, had withheld part of the truth.

But what was the truth?

She was sitting on the couch, having long given up on sleeping in her own room. The common room was where she felt most at home, where the children played and laughed. She could see it all from the couch: the area where the boys often played with their wooden weapons, Audrey's writing corner, where she kept undoubtedly careful records of everyone, the tables where the youngest ones scribbled, and the particular corner where Vincent usually loomed, keeping a careful eye on the troublemakers, ready to step in if she asked.

_Vincent._

The one thought she didn't want to get back to. The last person she thought she would see after Meteor was the one she saw the most. So when Tiveph appeared, threatening everything she knew and loved, he was still there, steady and ready for battle. He had done the research, had found out about Preternatural Psyche Grafting, about a Cetra who had done unthinkable horrors to human beings, all for some ideal.

Ideals. Those were the things of dreams and fairytales, things she associated with knights and heroes. Things that didn't belong in her life, so hectic and so real. These were the things of childhood, of promises and hasty thoughtless words.

_Cloud._

So, when presented with the choice, Heaven or Hell, she hesitated. Did she want to save the ideal or the reality? She knew the implications of the choice Tiveph had placed in front of her, and in his arrogance had assumed she would play into his hands. He assumed she would chose Heaven, his world, his rules, and the ideal. He thought she would choose her 'beloved', the man of her childhood dreams.

_You never chose, Tifa. It saved them once, but will it save them again?_

She brought her knees up to her chin, comforted on the side of the couch where he usually sat, when the children were in bed. This is where they had half conversations, on Saturday nights until way past midnight. Sometimes they would discuss Tiveph, trying to figure out what happened, but usually it was silent. He, reading and she, casually sorting through the children's drawings, pretending she wasn't watching him.

It was here that they learned of the Legend.

Where does one find the source of an ideal? For Tiveph, they had learned from half writings and histories, it was an old story. A fairytale of sorts. Vincent had dubbed it the 'Legend'. It was something that the early tribes of humanity had used to make sense out of a wild and confusing world. The original version had been orally passed from generation to generation, and eventually had been written down as culture became more civilized.

She had it, a version refined by time and knowledge, a small book her mother had given her. She had the Legend. It was more a poem than a story, full of fantastical images of demons and angels. It was both a delight and a cautionary tale. It was filled with vivid descriptions of the pleasures of a good life, and the temptations of sin.

She had read it hundreds of times, trying to see past the art of it. Sometimes she had a flicker of understanding, but she had never been a very book learned person. Her knowledge came from experience, something that the Legend didn't seem to connect with. All she knew was that Tiveph had clung to its ideals possessively, and attempted to act them out with her and those she was close to. He had created Sephiroth to be his angel and Vincent one of his demons.

Which is why her choice seemed obvious to him. Why would she, a pure soul, choose a demon?

_Because you love him._

She frowned at the simplicity of such a phrase. No one word could contain the plethora of half-chanced emotions she had felt for the strange man. With Cloud, it was so obvious, so comforting. She, as a child, wanted him to protect her, and then when she had grown up, wanted to protect him. But he was far beyond protecting, and in the days when he was possessed by Surrender, she had finally come to see that. Yes, she loved Cloud, but did he need it?

_No. I need to keep him at a distance, for both our sakes. Time passed us by._

It was the small things that had made their friendship. That, and her stubborn plea that he not fade into the shadows, that his penance could be better served among the _living_. Cid had been quite a help at first, even going as far as to place the gunman under house arrest. It had taken three years for him to become comfortable, to learn to be in the presence of people. Cid had taught him to laugh, with his brashly charming nature. Shera had taught him about domesticity, and some mechanics; small things that had changed since his thirty year stasis. Even Barret helped, if only for Tifa's sake.

And what had she taught him?

_That someone cared whether he lived or died. That someone would miss his presence if he were gone. Friendship._

She didn't have an exact moment when she had begun to love him. Like their friendship, it was the little things: a gentle tucking of hair behind an ear, a half-sided smile, a quick glance. It had taken nearly losing him for her to realize it. When Tiveph had put their lives in her hands, she would have chosen him, if not for Cloud's voice in her head, giving her the easy alternative.

Still, her heart was a locked heart, a guarded heart. She didn't fantasize about love, all illusions had been lost throughout her life. She was getting older, she had responsibility. She didn't want roses or candles or mad passionate interludes by twilight.

She wanted him smile that full smile again. She wanted him to dream about her.

_No, he loves Lucrecia. It is she who he dreams of, not you._

"Miss Tifa?" a quiet voice broke her out of her reverie. She turned to the noise, thankful for the intrusion.

Audrey's dark sad eyes greeted her. Tifa gently patted the couch next to her, inviting the girl to sit. She obliged, silently padding with her stocking feet, curling up defensively.

"What is it, Audrey?" Tifa asked warmly, fondly. Audrey gazed down at the floor, resting her chin on her knees.

"I miss my parents," the girl whispered, a small quiet tear tumbling down her cheek, "I think about them, at night." Tifa's chest felt tight, seeing Audrey like that. She carefully scooted over, wrapping her arms protectively around the girl.

"Well, you're not alone," she whispered into the girl's ear, "We are a family, all of us." The girl smiled wanly.

"Even Mr. Vincent?" she muttered, turning her head a little to look at Tifa, "I think he needs a family too."

_Children never fail to amaze me._

"Yes, him too," she replied, softly giving the girl a squeeze. Audrey smiled, wider than usual.

"Then tell him," she stated, wriggling herself free from Tifa's grasp, "Make him smile." And with that, she shuffled off to where she came, leaving a slightly bewildered Tifa behind.

_Well, there's always Halloween..._

* * *

This Chapter's Theme Songs: _Are You Happy Now? _Michelle Branch (no, I don't listen to much pop, but damn, this song does something for these characters interactions) and _Wake Up (Make a Move) _Lostprophets 

Audrey's Theme: _Games Without Frontiers_ Peter Gabriel


	8. Bourre Bouffe Movement I

AN: There are no thoughts in this chapter, all action and conversation. Think of it as a bridge of sorts, like in music. The POV? Well, you'll get to see all the main players in this one. Together. Sorta. Enjoy! Oh, and it's a two parter. Cause I couldn't help it.

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**Chapter 8 – Bouree Bouffe Movement I**

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"Yuffie," he said, more of a demand than a request, "...Why?" 

Cloud had finally cornered her, as she tried to run out the door, dressed up in her Halloween costume. He had not seen her since she had run off, the night before, as hastily as she had acted. Since she had... kissed him.

She cringed, turning around guiltily, feeling a little unsteady in her high heeled boots. Then, her face passed from apprehension to a more stubborn expression, one that suited her well. It was a face that used to scare Cloud, and he half expected her to give him a tongue lashing, though he didn't quite know what for.

"Because I wanted to," she said, defiantly standing her ground in her tight red ensemble, "...And because I knew you wouldn't." He stared for a moment, either from her words or from the outfit; his expression was always so vague. Then, he chanced a smile, but didn't come any closer.

"So..." he began, shifting his weight around, "You don't hate me? Are we still..." But being the impatient person she was, Yuffie jumped right in.

"Friends? Ya," she answered, giving him an impish grin, "I'm not going to be asking the world of you anytime soon." He looked her over closely, and then started laughing.

"Appropriate," he said, simply and honestly, pointing at the horns atop her head. She couldn't help a little grin.

"Well, I gotta go," she said, turning on her heel, "...I have something to take care of..." Cloud feared to ask, the tone in her voice gave away the havoc she intended on creating.

"...Maybe I should come along," he said, waiting for a response.

"Maybe," she replied, the wheels already turning in her head.

_Later..._

"Hold still," Tifa mumbled, the end of an eyeliner pencil in her mouth. Vincent sat in front of her, stoically handling the indignity his face was surely suffering. He had arrived early, as promised, and was patiently waiting for Tifa to put the finishing touches on his costume.

She hovered over him, already dressed, with semi tight brown pants, a loose white button up shirt, and a brown vest. Her hat was sitting on the bathroom's counter and she had left her hair loose, a fact that slowed her progress as she attempted to put Vincent's makeup on.

He shown up with his normal black slacks on, he was far too modest to handle tights, and a simple black dress shirt. Tifa, however, didn't think it was flashy enough, and much to his chagrin, had an appropriate one waiting for him. It had baggy if not frilly sleeves, and an embarrassingly low split in the middle of the neckline. The hem of it fell somewhere mid thigh, indicating that it was a tad too large. On top of that, it was a brilliant scarlet, which complimented his eyes.

"Alright, you're set!" she exclaimed, giving him a quick look over, "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" She gave him a sheepish grin, unsure of whether or not he believed her. His expression remained unchanged.

"What of your costume?" he said, nearly startling her after the silence, "You are without your weapon." She grinned.

"Well, you have yet to give me one," she replied, putting her hands on her hips. The corner of his mouth tugged up. He got up from the stool he was sitting on and strode over to his cloak, producing a small pistol and holster from it depths.

"It's not loaded," he said, walking over and handing it to her, "Didn't want you to accidentally shoot someone." She gave him a look of mock incredulity. Then she turned her attention to the gun and holster, attempting to adjust it around her wide hips. She bit her lip in concentration, for the buckle seemed to be giving her some trouble.

Without thinking, he reached over, adjusting it with quick and deft fingers. Reflexively, she grabbed his wrists, an unconscious defense she had learned after working in a bar for years.

"I am not trying to hurt you," he said, staring at her confused expression. She kept her grip on his wrists, and looked up at him, with a grim and determined look.

"I'm sorry," she said, and then averted her eyes, "For everything. I didn't mean to keep anything from you." He nodded, pulling his wrists from her grasp.

"The children are waiting," he said guardedly, giving her shoulder a quick touch. Then he turned to the door, and began working the doorknob.

The door didn't open.

"I'm not falling for that," she kidded, returning to her cheerful pretense, "Yuffie's tried that one on me a dozen times." He turned to her and frowned.

"The door will not open," he stated, illustrating his point with a quick and forceful tug, "I think we are locked in."

_Meanwhile..._

"That should do it," Yuffie muttered, pocketing the odd metal object. Rinna gave her a thumbs up and the two conspirators gave each other knowing glances, suppressing giggles as they heard muffled voices emanating from behind the door.

Yuffie did a little dance in her miniskirted ensemble, eliciting an eye rolling from her partner in crime. Rinna couldn't get away with such clothing, since Tifa always had an eye on her. So, she had settled for a black and green kimono with various assortments of knives and ninja stars tucked in various places. When Tifa had asked about the ensemble, Rinna had told her she was being a "deadly Wutain lady". Suffice to say, Tifa didn't inquire further.

The Home was in a slightly chaotic state, masking Yuffie and Rinna's activities. Shera, Cid and Barret were watching the kids, and having a hard time doing so, from the exasperated looks on their faces. Yuffie chuckled as the two "ninjas", Jeremy and Kale, where attempting a sneak attack on Cid, who seemed to be holding something back...

"Darn kids!" he shouted, as they jumped at him, attempting to knock his hat off. Shera patted him, giving him an approving look.

"Boys," she said, a touch of warning in her voice, "Behave, or there'll be no trick or treating." They scampered off, as Cid held back his verbal threats.

"You've been good so far," Shera teased, "...Is there something wrong?" He huffed, chewing furiously on his unlit cigarette, as Tifa didn't allow smoking in the Home.

"Well, there _are_ children," he grumbled, "as you like to point out. I can't have 'em turning out like me. Especially Samiel." She laughed, seeing her son waddle his way towards them.

"Dad? Do I look stupid?" the boy asked, adjusting his feathered costume, "Kale told me I looked like a chicken!" Cid frowned, glared over at said troublemaker.

"Nah, Kale's just blind and dumb," Shera gave him a warning glance, "er, he just doesn't _understand_ the _noble_ chocobo." He finished with a nervous grin, looking to his wife for approval. Samiel grinned broadly, stretching his wings out.

"Ya! And I'm a _flying_ chocobo!" he said triumphantly, before running off to join the rest.

"More like you every day," Shera muttered, going over to check on Barret.

Yuffie leaned against the wall, flanked by Rinna and a masked figure, watching the chaos from a distance.

"They'll be going to Reeve's haunted house soon," she whispered to the figure, "That's when we can split, ok?" She turned to Rinna and winked, and then sauntered over to Barret.

"Yuffie? Have you seen Tifa?" he asked, eyes scanning the room, "She was s'posed to help us round the kids up." Yuffie shrugged.

"She was busy with something earlier," she innocently stated, "She probably got held up. Trapped or something... I'm sure she'll meet up with you later." He narrowed his eyes, no stranger to suspicion where the shinobi was involved.

"Yuffie..." he began, but then Marlene trotted over, angel wings jiggling with every move.

"Hi Daddy," she said, with a new found ten year old savvy, "We're gonna be late if we don't head out now. 'Sides, we want candy!" She enthusiastically spread her arms out, and then turned to a girl nearby.

"You look like Aunt TIFA!" she squeaked, dramatically indicating towards the girl's costume. She nodded.

"Thank you," the girl nearly whispered. Marlene smiled, and extended her hand.

"My name is Marlene," she said, as the girl shook her hand tentatively, "What's yours?"

"...Audrey," the girl answered, "Nice to meet you, Marlene."

_Back in the Bathroom..._

"YUFFIE!!!" Tifa shouted, pounding on the door, "I KNOW IT WAS YOU!!!" Flushed and aggravated, Tifa plopped onto the floor, tapping the door every once in awhile. Vincent had long since sat back on the only stool, waiting for either Tifa to calm down, or the door to open, it was hard to tell which.

"Hmm," he said, finally looking in the mirror, "I look odd." Tifa gave him a strange look, and then puffed out some air irritatedly.

"Aren't you worried?" she asked him, shifting her position, "What if we're stuck in here all night?" He chuckled lightly, turning to face her.

"Is that such a bad thing?" he said, staring, "Haven't we been in worse places?" Then he turned away, as if contemplating something. "...Or do you not enjoy the company?" he whispered, suddenly interested in the wall.

"No," she said, softly, "I just wanted to be there for the kids. They were so excited about today." Then she started laughing a little to herself.

"Geez, I don't get the hint, do I?" she muttered to herself, eliciting a confused look from him, "I guess I couldn't avoid the issue forever..."

"I do not understand..." he began, but she held up a hand to silence him. Then she pulled herself back up to standing.

"I talk best when I'm moving, so please ignore the pacing," she began to do said activity, although it was restricted greatly by the parameters of the room, "I think I should tell you a little about... my choice." His face lost its confusion and instead took on a noncommittal curiosity.

She took a deep breath. "Tiveph, as you know, had prepared me to be his sort of...trigger. I told you originally that it was my death that would bring it about..." she paused, nibbling on her nail nervously, "...but there was something more to it. I had to make a choice. It was the fact that I didn't that saved us." He nodded.

"He put "Heaven or Hell" in front of me. Simple, right?" she gave a small spastic laugh, "But it wasn't. He indicated that the one I did not choose would result in some suffering. In the choice of Hell, I would damn all of existence. In the choice of Heaven..." She stopped, turning her head downwards.

"...I would have damned you." She continued to stare at the floor, shoulders tensed, afraid to look at him.

"But you didn't," he said, firm and careful, "You didn't have to make such a choice."

"I guess it doesn't matter, right?" she said, looking at him, eyes misty and threatening to tear, "Except..." She turned to the mirror, studying the odd reflection: her, eyes moist with loose hair and he, strangely garbed and looking worriedly at her.

"You cannot dwell on the unmade choices," he muttered, choosing his words deliberately, "On the things unsaid. You will drive yourself to madness thinking of such things."

"Madness?" she hiccupped, containing her emotion, "Madness? I've already gone mad. In my dreams, in waking... I'm haunted, Vincent." She felt something cool curl around her hand, and nearly gasped when she realized what it was.

He held her hand, defiantly, as he stood next to her.

"Would you like to know about dreams?" he asked, tiltling her head so he looked at her.

* * *

Vincent and Tifa's Theme (yes another one): _Deliver Me_ Sarah Brightman 


	9. Bourre Bouffe Movement II

AN: Well, here's part two. Hope it stills entertains and inspires.

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**Chapter 9 – Bouree Bouffe Part II**

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Somewhere along the trail of happy and costumed children, Yuffie Kisaragi and Rinna Delacroix managed to sneak off, and as they saw it; unnoticed too. Yuffie dragged another along also; a masked and hooded figure she had brought with her earlier. They were beyond the watchful eyes of the other ex-AVALANCHE members now, heading towards less friendly portions of the city. 

"Can I take this off now? It's stuffy in here," the masked figure spoke, muffled by the costume.

"Sure, Barret and the others are gone," Yuffie said, adjusting her outfit, since leather never had a tendency to stay put. Rinna looked excited, and was attempting to shorten her kimono.

"Ah, I can breathe!" Cloud exclaimed, shaking his slightly matted head. Yuffie gave him a wink and sauntered over.

"Ready for a real party?" she said huskily, with a bit of amusement in her voice. Rinna jumped up and down and clapped, while Cloud freed himself of the hooded robe his was wearing, revealing his real costume.

"I should have known..." Yuffie said, shaking her head and indicating towards his costume, keeping the fit of laughter to herself.

"Am I not dashing?" he asked, with a wink. Rinna giggled.

"Hmm...hair standing straight up, red coat, glasses, gun..." Yuffie took a verbal inventory, and then rolled her eyes, "Not Rash the Humanoid Gale! You watch too many cartoons..."

"At least I watched cartoons as a kid," he muttered, making sure his hair was still standing up, "You probably were too busy stealing materia." She frowned, looking all the more devilish as she did so.

"Touche. Now get your ass moving, I need to make a dramatic entrance," she muttered, grabbing his arm and dragging him behind her.

_Elsewhere..._

Tifa closed her eyes and swallowed hard for a moment. His hand still lingered on her chin, warm and gently coaxing her to look at him. She tenatively gripped his prosthetic hand; it was inhumanly cold, like the breath that escaped slowly from her lips.

Then she opened her eyes.

She had not lingered long on his appearance before, only seeing the hazardous strokes with the pencil or brush as she applied it carelessly on his face. She suppressed the smirk at the irony of him being in the makeup while she wore none; she didn't have the time to most days. Vincent looked oddly suited for such glamour, with the dark pencilling around his eyes, making them luminous in daylight. He looked so breakable, so easy to fade away...

"Dreams... about... her?" she asked, regretting the words as they escaped her trembling lips. He released her chin, trying to fade, trying to go back to the specter he knew well.

"No," she said, a light pressure on his prosthetic hand, "...Don't." He turned his shadowed eyes to her, the black rims and silvery lids shielding the crimson until it was nearly burgundy. So cold.

"Dreams..." he repeated, soft, insistent, and almost demanding, "...Not nightmares." He did not pull the hand away, but she felt the sudden flush of warmth from the ghost of a hand, as if it wanted her to believe it had blood, not machinery, coarsing through its veins.

"How strange it must be," she spoke, feeding off of the brief warmth, "To be able to dream. After so many nightmares..." A shaky finger to her lips silenced her, and on impulse, she placed her hand around its atttached wrist, but not from defense.

He carefully freed the hand, finding only the weakest of resistences. He gently pushed back her bangs, and she looked up, with the sad smile she wore when no one was looking, when no one was around.

"I dream..." he said softly leaning in next to her ear, "...about redemption." He finished off the breath with a pale kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes again, leaning into him, into an unsteady and careless embrace.

_Later, Elsewhere..._

"You're being a real drag, ya know," Rinna stated firmly, sitting at the table across from Cloud, giving her the best approximation of an evil eye she could think of. He shrugged.

"Your threats mean nothing, punk," he harmlessly snarled at her, "Besides, it isn't like I'm supposed to do anything but drink right now." He knocked back his drink quickly, deftly illustrating his point. The girl rolled her eyes.

"You're lucky Yuff doesn't let _me_ drink," she muttered, resting her head in her hand, "Or I'd be drinking you under the table." He snorted.

"Speaking of the devil," he said, looking around the crowded club, "Where'd she go?" His eyes scanned the crowd, once in awhile lingering on something red, not finding her.

"I'll get her!" Rinna said cheerfully, almost eager to leave his presence. He gave her a skeptical look and then waved her on.

"I need another drink anyway," he muttered, flagging down a server.

Rinna swerved through the mass of costumes and sweat, oddly graceful in the platform thong sandals she wore. She was greeted with a miriad of unfamiliar and sometimes frightening faces and masks, and felt small amongst them. The effect of the lights, and the pounding of the music was unsettling, and she was almost ready to go back to the table, and watch Cloud be morose and drunken some more.

Then she saw her, in all her deviled glory.

Rinna smiled and waved at her friend. Yuffie waved back, while the girl wriggled her way over.

"I'd like you to meet Rinna," she said, talking to the man standing next her. Rinna blinked, not having noticed the man before. He nearly matched Yuffie, with a red suit and tie, with a black dress shirt, charmingly ruffled yet still flattering. His hair even matched the ensemble, and the girl wondered if it was natural or dyed, as it was a particularly brilliant shade of red.

"Hey Rinna," he drawled, with an accent she couldn't place. He held out his hand, and she shook it firmly.

"Who is-"Rinna began, but was thwarted as Yuffie cleared her throat.

"An old friend," Yuffie said, giving the man a sly look. He smirked and leaned against the wall, completely at ease in the surroundings.

"Well, Spike's worried," Rinna exaggerated, giving the man a distrustful glare, "You should probably go talk to him." Yuffie groaned.

"Is she talkin about..." he muttered, giving Yuffie an amused look, "...Strife?" The shinobi nodded, and turned to go.

"See ya around," he said, and then grabbed her hand, leaving a light kiss on it. Yuffie yanked her hand back forcefully, and gave him a quick smile.

"Is he drunk yet?" Yuffie asked Rinna, when the man was out of earshot. Rinna nodded.

"Well, tonight's turning out to be a good night," she continued, studying the slip of paper in her hand, with bold and quickly scribbled numbers on it.

_Elsewhere..._

"Are we dreaming?" she asked, having broken away, back to being careful, "Do I have to wake up?" He shook his head, confidently willing her look straight at him.

"You say you are haunted," Vincent began, melodic and soothing, "You talk about nightmares. If there is one thing I have learned about nightmares..." Then he stopped, considering his voice for a moment. Her legs willed her to sit, and she did, slowly lowering herself to the floor. He knelt down in front of her, unwilling to break the eye contact.

"I am, Vincent. Haunted by what could have happened... I would have chosen Hell. I would have..." she looked down, the tears finally breaking her control, and she sobbed like a child, unwilling to act secure anymore.

And he let her, even as she reached out, clinging to him possessively. He let her form fall into him, and he let her stay, sitting on his lap.

"You didn't have to keep this to yourself," he said gently, "I wouldn't have thought badly of you. Even if you had damned all of existence." She sniffed, and looked up at him, with an almost childish sort of admiration in her eyes.

"Really?" she said, her tone hoarse from crying. He nodded.

"Was it not you who told me that 'friends know about the other's ugly parts," he muttered, a slight smile tugging at his mouth, "They just see the better parts shining through'?" He half smiled, the other half of his mouth threatening to also.

"Smile," she said, quietly asking, "The real one. I like it." He relunctantly complied, and her lips trembled, as a less violent onslaught of tears cascaded down her cheeks.

"Will you stay?" she asked, wiping away her tears briskly, "Even after we get out of here? We could be your family..." He lightly kissed her forehead again. She shuddered a little at the contact, her senses far too strong.

"In time," he whispered into her hair, "...When I can be honest too."

* * *

Theme Songs: _Bring Me to Life_ Evanescence (sooo perfect for the Vincent and Tifa scenes) _Is It Me? Is It True?_ Midtown 

AN: Yes, Rash the Humanoid Gale is FF7 world's version of Vash from Trigun. I think Cloud could pull it off. And I love Vash. So there.

I have a weird pattern...Vincent smiling, while Tifa cries or is almost crying. Odd image that won't get out of my head...

T. Pirate: Give you three guesses who the man in red is.


	10. Soubrette Syncopation

AN: is back!!!! Well, here's another addition. Hope it still remains interesting. I like trouble.

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**Chapter 10 – Soubrette Syncopation  
**

**

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**

It did not take Cloud long to realize that he should not have had the last five drinks he downed the night before. It was as clear as the daylight coming in through the window, and it drummed in his ears loudly, giving him cause to put his hands on his forehead. But that's when it really hit him... for he couldn't move his left arm, as it was under something.

_I don't have a window in my room..._

He froze, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. He knew the memories would soon flood his brain, and he wanted to be prepared for the onslaught. Surrender never let him forget, that was one fact he could count one. Even if the environment he was currently in was at once alien and smelled familiar.

_What is that smell?_

It was faint and oddly...girly. He decided to move a little, shifting the covers but not daring to look. He continued to lay there, watching the sun streak across the ceiling.

"_So, have you found any answers in that glass?" she prodded at him, sleekly sitting down next to him. He shrugged, his eternal gesture for everything._

"_Are you done prancing around in that short skirt?" he replied grouchily, tonight was looking like a mean drunk night. She laughed and leaned in closer._

"_So... you noticed?" she whispered slyly into his ear._

A blank in his memories. He knew the timeline would fill itself. He blinked, hoping the images would continue, waiting to remember something before he looked around the room. Something in his gut told him it was too soon to see.

_**Would you like to see more?**_

He'd almost forgotten that slimy sort of intelligence that infiltrated his brain. He didn't know why it still tortured him, but he knew that if he humored it, he might learn more of his predicament. So, he gave it a mental nod.

"_My room..." she muttered, pulling him by his coat. He was too light headed to disagree. Well, that and his tongue was far too occupied for talking._

_They stumbled in, the light of the moon making rays across the ceiling. She giggled a little, playing with the buttons of his coat, teasing his ear with her tongue._

"_Yuff..." he complained, but then found that he was the one pushing her towards the bed._

"_Just tell me that you want me," she mumbled, "Forget all that love business..."_

"_I want..."_

He gasped, and sat upright, not caring about disturbing what must inevitably be in the bed next to him. He finally looked and his eyes were wide; his mind unable to register it for a minute.

_**Well... what did you expect? You're nothing more than an animal...** _

_Elsewhere..._

Vincent watched her sleep. She was curled up next to the door, swimming in his cape. It had not taken her long to fall asleep; emotional exhaustion had led to physical exhaustion very fittingly. He could not sleep, with her so venerable. It was natural for him to assume a watcher's role, and his body agreed for once; he would sleep when he could relax.

It was not often he could relax. So, with her head resting on his lap, her breath coming out peacefully, it was nearly impossible.

He ran a hand through his hair, smirking at its odd styling. He'd almost forgotten that he looked remotely like a rock star for the moment. He would have to remove the makeup later, when he could safely move from his position.

_I think it is a good dream. _

She was smiling in her sleep, occasionally muttering. She had a firm grip on the collar of the cape, as she snuggled it closer to her chin. Her eyelids fluttered occasionally, indicating the deepness of her sleep.

_You're in deep this time, Valentine._

He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. He was a man of deep memory; ones that imbedded into his very psyche. They were like the lines that were beginning to show in his face. The older ones etched deepest, around his eyes and on his hands. His hands.

_The only gift you've ever given me, Tiveph._

He found himself staring at the new appendage at the strangest times, catching himself off guard. He didn't even remember what it was like to have two hands anymore, and suddenly he had them. Although, the appendage was still as cold and unfeeling. It could never truly comfort, it could never truly feel the gentlest touch.

_What are you dreaming about, Tifa?_

She snorted, giving him slight cause to grin. He would have remembered someone else who used to do something similar, but when she laughed. That was another time, though, a time he was willing to forget. Instead, he watched her, taking in reality.

"...the dark..." she muttered softly, a mere scratching of sound. He watched the words form, crookedly filling the air with her half frowning lips. He absently brushed a hair from her face, and she responded by crinkling her nose.

He couldn't help but study her, taking note of the imperfections of her face. He'd lived far too long to be enticed by beauty anymore; Lucrecia had taught him well about that. He found that a person was best viewed with their scars, their crooked teeth, their wrinkles. Tifa had crow's feet around her eyes; a sign of someone who had laughed long and deep more than once or twice, and her teeth were shifted just off center, though still straight. The oddest of her features was also his favorite; her eyes. They were rather unsettling most of the time, with the red in them, but he learned that they looked more brown when she was happy. The red only deepened them, making them warm; making him want to drink them up like cidar on a cold day.

_No, she isn't perfect. _

Perfect was cool green and soft brown. It was delicate like ivory and porcelain. Perfect was Lucrecia, and in some respects, Aeris. It was something you worshipped and never touched, lest you tarnish its purity. It was something you protected, at all costs. It was something that Tiveph took full advantage of.

_An ideal. How predictable we are. But you couldn't take advantage of her, could you Tiveph?_

That was why he was sitting on the floor, locked in a bathroom, her head resting on his lap. Tifa's very movements begged him to see her, to touch her, to live with her. Yes, it was vitality, and he was more afraid of it than anything.

"...Cloud...help..." she exhaled, and he stopped, frozen with his fingers lightly brushing her temple.

_I will find him for you, if that is what you want. You're wasting your youth on silly old men and children. _

He let the breath he had been holding out slowly and shakily. He removed the hand from her face and placed it on his own, as if the weight of his own head had suddenly become a burden for his neck. He would have moved away, but he didn't want to wake her, just yet. He wanted her to have the pleasant dreams he'd seen in her face.

"...help...him..." she said, louder, with urgency. He watched as her brows furrowed with determination, like she was fighting something. Instinctively, he put a hand on her shoulder, as if steadying her in the dream world. Her mouth twitched into a momentary smile.

"Help...V-" she murmured, but he was unable to hear the last part. A very guilty looking Rinna stood over them, in the open doorway.

"Good...morning?" she said, the usual smirk returning to her face as she surveyed the scene.

"If that's what you'd like to call it," he replied, a light scowl adorning his face.

_Elsewhere..._

His sword, blade pointed away from him, lay casually next to him. He had woken up in bed with his own sword. He sighed, both relieved and oddly... horrified. A small note was attached to it, and he shifted over so he could read it. It said:

_Fuck this, Spike._

_Yuff_

He saw the humor in it, recalling a past incident involving her accusing his... orientation. But he didn't feel like laughing. He didn't feel angry. He didn't feel... anything.

_**How could you feel nothing, Strife?**_

_I don't know. I don't know anything._

_**Bullshit.**_

He got up out of bed, feeling suddenly dirty being in her room, and picked up his sword. He half dragged it out with him, not caring for style and forme. He wanted it gone from there, that place filled with sweet girlish smells and knives. He trudged over to his own room, which was cold and dark like most early mornings, and carefully place the sword against the wall. He inspected his bed, hoping that maybe she was asleep there.

She wasn't. He frowned.

_Where the hell is she?_

_**Probably far away, after what you called her.**_

_Shit, what did I do now?_

He looked down at himself finally, remembering how quickly he came to conclusions. He still had the red coat on, although a few buttons were undone. But something was missing. The weight of the gun holster was missing from his hip.

"_Here, let me help you with that," she teased, slowly removing the gun holster._

"_Thanks, Tiff," he answered, slurring a little, "Aeris would scold me about somethin like that." Her hands moved away as she bolted up from on top of him, and then landed promptly on the floor._

"_What's wrong Tifa?" he said, louder and clearly. The shinobi covered her ears._

"_The name is YUFFIE!" she screamed, getting on her feet. He grimaced._

"_...Sorry Aeris," he said, a little too quickly. She glared._

"_You're one sick fuck, do you know that?" she hissed, stomping towards the door. He looked dazedly after her._

"_Where're ya goin?" he asked. She dug around for something in her pocket, producing a small paper. _

"_For a good fuck, where else?" she growled, finally making her exit._

He put his hands over his ears, hoping he could drown out the noise of her screaming at him. He didn't like the sound, it was high and searing. Like metal about to make contact with his jugular.

_**Feel nothing now?**_

_You bastard. How could you?_

_**I am you. Haven't you thought of that yet?**_

He didn't want this. This voice in his head that sounded like himself. He also didn't want to think of what it meant. But there were few times in Cloud's life that he ever got what he wanted.

_You mean...you're me?_

**_If in that you mean animalistic and cruel, then yes._**

And he saw them, the images of the faces from his dreams. The women, the swords, the pens... and himself. He saw himself more clearly than he had ever seen. That look of aggression when he slashed for the final kill; that hungry look he gave Tifa when she was stretching for her exercises; the desperate look he gave Aeris when he saw her praying, before they had even heard of the ancient city. He was an open book, frantically being torn to pieces.

"I can't be you!" he shouted with a futile edge in his voice, cracking in desperation. But he knew that the answer would not come. The silence was heavy.

"I can't be you," he whispered, almost whimpering. He saw the faces again, this time laughing, cursing, screaming...

He _was _an animal. All aggression and bravado. He was a wolf, feeding off the carrion of human activity.

_Why? Why did I have to see this? Why did I have to see **myself**?_

**_So you could see you are not a failure. You allowed me to exist. You are Tiveph's legacy._**

**_

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_**

The "Night Before" Theme for Yuffie and Cloud: _Tusk_ Fleetwood Mac (listen to the lyrics. Really listen to them.)

The "Cloud Snaps" Theme: _Pressure Point_ The Zutons


	11. Parlando

AN: Sorry for not updating for a few days. Life happens. Anywho, here's another exciting chapter (sarcasm)! More trouble for everyone. Yes, I can make more trouble.

HypernatedRikku: She's not a whore. Really. Her and Reno have a history. Yes, that was Reno. Tijuana Pirate's writing a fic about that night called "Pillow Talk" she should have it up one of these days... (btw, THANK YOU T. PIRATE!!!)

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**Chapter 11 – Parlando**

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She didn't speak to him about it afterwards. They both silently hoped that the other was too drunk to remember, and realistic enough to know they hadn't. Yuffie barked orders at him as their employee-employer relationship demanded and he silently threw out the rowdy men, his sword strapped to his back to make him look bigger. Cloud was too strapped for gil or purpose to leave, and Yuffie was too strapped for help or company to make him. So now it was days later, enough days to convince themselves that maybe things could work out on the surface.

Then again, anything works out on the surface.

The first to notice the change in her demeanor was Tifa; always the observer to other's feelings, a trait that annoyed Yuffie to no end. She would just give her that purposefully caring look and Yuffie wanted to cry and spill all of her troubles onto the table. And fittingly, there was a table in front of her, but instead of her troubles, there were only warm mugs of tea, steam rising slowly into the air.

"Yuff... what is it? You're not as..." Tifa began, voice filled with that annoyingly endearing sort of worry. Yuffie cringed.

_Saccharinely predictable? Getting into trouble the obvious way? Happy?_

"...Spunky? Sassy? Annoying?" Yuffie continued, and then softened, "That obvious, huh?" Tifa nodded, putting her hand out on the table to hold or to slap; whatever physical reaction would make the other feel better.

"Are things going alright at the bar?" Tifa asked, already knowing she was wrong, "The employees treating you alright?" Yuffie cringed at the word employee.

_You're too good at this Tiff. They should make perception like yours illegal._

"...kinda..." the younger woman mumbled, "...stupidmanwhorepunk..." The words came out quickly, too quickly judging by Tifa puzzled expression. Then her expression turned knowing, a small and almost sad smile adorning her lips.

"It's a boy isn't it?" she whispered as the pressure suddenly dropped in the room.

_Oh, that's not even fair. Here's the real kicker Tiff: he broke your heart once or twice too. I should have followed your example, huh? Except children and atoning dead guys aren't my way to happiness._

"Is it?" she repeated, breathy and full of feminine wisdom and uncertainty; for both were the same when women were concerned.

"Do you ever substitute, Tiff?" she replied, lacing her fingers together and propping her chin on them, "When you know something is real and go for the flashy get rich quick scheme instead?" Tifa considered her words while sipping her tea, leaving only the dregs. She stared at the remaining tea leaves.

_I wonder if she can do that crazy tea leave fortune telling..._

"I guess we all do," she finally answered, still staring at her cup, "A failing I suppose."

_No Tiff, you're supposed to tell me that people are good and true and that I should..._

"You can even substitute one love for another," she continued, still staring at the cup, "Forgetting that achingly romantic love for the unconditional affection of children."

_No no no, you're the strong one Tiff; don't make me be that..._

"No!" she shouted softly, a hollow sound in comparison to her usual screaming, "I didn't ask for that." Tifa looked up; a confused and almost hurt look in her eyes. She saw a strange mix of things in Yuffie's eyes, and covered her mouth, like she didn't want to speak what her mind had told her. Tifa didn't press the issue, she understood somehow, seeing her own eyes reflected back at her with a Wutain twist.

"Maybe you should read more," Tifa said, distractedly checking on the children, aware that Shera had their full attention in the other room.

_Maybe. Maybe things would be different. But you can't expect me to be a scholar._

Yuffie nodded, and then let her head sink back into her hands. Tifa tried to keep from looking helpless, but failing only in her down turned eyes.

"Why did you save them? Really." Yuffie asked finally, small and quiet from the back of her throat. Tifa eyes opened wide, and then relaxed when she looked at Yuffie's mischievous grin.

"I had a choice, Yuff," she whispered, with intensity, "Now, I don't have one. You can't pick them..."

_Who? Who can't you pick?_

"You can't pick who you love," she continued, soft and subtle, "Even at the cost of losing yourself."

"You could say that again," Yuffie finally exhaled, the humor returning to her cheeks. Tifa smiled.

"Oh, and a word for you," the shinobi added, "Before you get all wise with me."

"What is it?" Tifa asked, daring to sip her tea again. Yuffie grinned wickedly.

"I'm locking you in a closet next time," she said, giving Tifa cause to choke on the hot liquid flowing down her throat, "Unless you two get busy. Capiche?"

_Later..._

"I think you should take a look at some of my translations," he said, handing her the notebook. She looked it over, lingering over a brush of fingertips.

Another Saturday night had come, with the icy breezes carrying clouds that threatened snow. The windowpanes were frosty, and Tifa had bundled herself up into a bulky sweater and loose pants that allowed her wooly stocking clad feet to be covered up. Still, she shivered, bringing up her knees as she draped herself in the stiff wooden chair next to the table.

"What is new?" she said, eyes scanning his uneven scribbles. He cleared his throat.

"I think I may know more about... Surrender," he whispered carefully, tensing up every muscle in preparation.

_Surrender... Cloud?_

"W-what?" she stammered, eyes still transfixed on the page. For what she saw on the page also caught her attention.

_Origin of the Emotives – Tiveph's Last Legacy_

"What does this mean?" she hesitantly asked, unable to look up at him. He breathed.

"I'm not sure," Vincent said carefully, shuffling a few papers distractedly, "But it may mean that we... need to talk to Cloud. He may be worse off than we originally thought."

She blinked, and attempted to steady the tremors in her hand.

_Maybe I didn't save him..._

"His mind is... unstable. With the awakening of an Emotive, he may turn... violent," he continued, eyes carefully watching every tremble, "He is a danger to himself. To anyone close by."

_Close by... but where is he? Who might he put in danger?_

"Where is he? What _is_ an Emotive? Why is he in trouble?..." she rattled off quickly, unable to see the wince Vincent made upon seeing the concern in her face.

"I will help him for you, if that is what you wish," he answered in hush tones, eyes averted. She looked over at him, puzzled by his behavior.

_Why won't you look at me?_

"...Vince?" she said, momentarily forgetting her tirade, "What is it? Are you alright?"

"Almost cruel," he whispered, and then his voice grew louder, "I know where he is, Tifa. He's been with...Yuffie, taking care of the bar."

_Oh no... Poor Yuffie. I think I understand now... but..._

"...Why didn't you tell me? Why are you hiding things from me?" she muttered, a hidden strength in her words, "...What is the truth, Vince?" He turned a page of the notebook, the paper crinkling under his cold inhuman fingers.

"...The truth is..." he began, swallowing a lump in his throat, "...I...I..."

A crash sounded, tearing their eyes away from the table. Their instincts forced them to stand, but familiarity caused them to stand side by side. They did not have to wait for the intruder long.

"...He's infatuated with you, can't you tell?" a cold and hollow voice spoke, resonating with the chilled air. A cold hand touched her shoulder, causing her to tense. She relaxed when she realized it was Vincent. His expression was grim.

The figure stepped through the doorway, revealing a proud and arrogant stance, though shorter stature. His eyes regarded Tifa hungrily.

_Please don't... Surrender._

The figure brush aside a wry piece of hair; it was the color of honey and sunshine. Though, it was not as she remembered, from childhood on to adulthood. The rest was the same, blue eyes, pale skin... but there was something wrong with his hair...

Cloud Strife now had a lock of silver hair.

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AN: Mwhahaha! So, what is up with Cloud? Not telling. Read later. Answers will come, trust me. 

Theme Songs: _Rose_ A Perfect Circle, _Aenema_ Tool, and _Whisper_ Evanescence


	12. Etude de Agitato

AN: The first section is before Cloud bursts in. Just wanted to fill you in on what triggered his appearance. Read, react, and check out the note at the end.

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**Chapter 12 – Etude de Agitato**

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_Earlier..._

_Calm, it's only gray hair. That's normal at your age, right?_

He sighed, releasing the new addition to his features. The large tub of goo that had become part of his morning ritual still sat unopened, and he didn't think he would touch it today. Something didn't feel right; something other than what appeared to be a physical manifestation of a hormonal imbalance.

_Maybe Yuffie did this. She hasn't been particularly happy with me lately..._

He winced at the understatement. He had gotten angry glares and sharp tongued barbs thrown at him for days. If there was ever a thing he wanted to avoid, it was Yuffie's wrath. Why he endured it...

_A couple of good slices and she'd be less than a memory..._

He shook his head. His thoughts had been off too, veering into darker and more violent regions. It often left him with a cold and slimy feeling, almost like something had awakened, but was waiting. Just waiting.

"HEY STRIFE! GET YOUR ASS TO WORK!" Yuffie greeted him from the bottom of the stairs, her voice ripping his thoughts into the present. He stared at the mirror for a second, squinting his eyes, frowning at himself.

_Sometimes I hate you, Cloud._

Then he sprinted into his room, grabbing Ultima from where he had propped it against the wall. The feel of the grip in his hands soothed him, gave him strength. And Cloud hated weakness.

He made his way down the stairs, pushing past Yuffie, who was glaring at him with her hands on her hips. He shrugged her expression off with an indifferent glance.

"Asshole," she muttered, with frustration that lacked venom, once he was out of earshot. He was settling himself against the wall near the door, with a relaxed sort of formidability. His hair fell into his eyes without the usual gel to hold it in place, giving him an almost disreputable aura.

_Let's see if any of these losers get rowdy today. I'm ready._

But instead of a patron, Yuffie was standing in front of him now. And she looked angry.

"What is your problem?" she said with an annoyed tone, arms folded in front of her, "Are you really that fucked in the head?" He instinctively brushed aside some of his bangs, bringing attention to the silvery gray streak in his hair. Yuffie gasped.

"What happened?" she asked, a flicker of concern in her eyes. He grunted. She returned his reply with an even deeper scowl.

"Geez, everyone's complete angst wrecks..." she starting saying, more to herself than to him, "Even Vincent and Tifa... I thought they were getting along so well..." He raised an eyebrow, frowning.

_What do you mean by Vincent **and** Tifa?_

"What?" he asked, low and growling, causing her to twitch, stopping her little rant.

"He visits her every week, stares at her when she's not looking-"she rattled off before clapping her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. His frown disappeared, replaced with a look of utter shock.

_She lied._

"Cloud, I didn't mean it like that..." she protested, the anger vanished from her features. He blinked.

_She fucking lied._

"I forgot you still love her, shit..." she screeched at herself, confused at who to point her frustration at.

_Tifa fucking lied to me._

"I don't love her," he said with a calm and calculating voice. Yuffie opened her mouth to say more but quickly closed it. Fear flickered across her face.

He smiled, the smile of a man who has destroyed something. Then, he reached a hand out to her, pushing roughly on the back of her head. She started to protest, but was interrupted with a cold and savage kiss.

He pulled away, as a little green momentarily phased across his eyes. She stared at him, a mixture of fear and awe and something indefinable. He gave her the strange grin again, before turning to the door.

"Where are you going?" she croaked out. He gave a small spastic laugh.

"To say goodbye," he said, before stepping out into the day.

_Back to the Present..._

"What happened?" Tifa asked shakily, unconsciously indicating towards the streak in his hair with her hand. He smirked. Vincent put a little more pressure on her shoulder.

"I woke up," he said coolly while shifting the grip on his sword. Vincent's eyes grew wide upon hearing the words.

_What was it that the journal said...?_

"No!" Tifa protested, jerking closer towards Cloud. Vincent pulled her back.

"_A curious phenomenon has been noted concerning the Exulted..."_

"Don't, Tifa," Vincent whispered. She shot him a glare. He relaxed his grip.

"You're a real piece of work," Cloud continued with an eerily calm voice, "I bet you were happy when you found out I was dead." She gasped.

"_Almost as if something has awakened inside of him..."_

"How could you say that! How _dare _you!" she shouted, and before Vincent could stop her, she marched up to him. He heard the slap before he registered it happening. Cloud laughed, his cheek an angry red. Tifa's face was contorted with more hurt than rage.

"_The catalyst is yet unknown, but seems to be connected with the emotional state..."_

Vincent placed his hand on the gun at his side. His instincts were to shoot Cloud if he made any move to hurt or otherwise upset Tifa. But his loyalty to Tifa conflicted with his instincts. He didn't know if he could kill...

"_A separate consciousness. I've decided to call it..."_

"Tifa..." Vincent said warningly, unable to move into the circle of heightened emotion between the two fighters. She turned to his voice, and he noticed the tears waiting to fall from her eyes. Cloud continued smiling.

"..._an __Emotive. Considering Lucrecia's spirit is still intact..."_

Cloud leaned in closer to her, with a dangerous mixture of love and cruelty in his glowing blue-green eyes. She turned her face towards him, a single tears slipping from the tight guard of her eyes.

_Don't you dare touch her..._

He smiled sweetly at her, placing his free hand gently on her cheek. Vincent had the gun cocked and aimed shortly after. Tifa's lower lip trembled, and she closed her eyes as he touched.

"I don't love you," she whispered, so only Cloud could hear. He leaned in, placing a kiss on her cheek. Vincent's gun hand began to shake.

"Don't touch her!" Vincent screamed, before he could stop himself. Tifa continued to look at Cloud, a small smile on her lips.

"I've never loved you. I could never love such a liar," Cloud said with tenderness as the smile disappeared from Tifa's face, "Such a liar and a whore. Goodbye." He adjusted the grip on his sword, ready for his final farewell to Tifa. Vincent's hand stopped it's shaking when he noticed she wasn't going to fight back.

"Tifa! Get away from him, he'll..." Vincent began, but the last part caught in his throat.

_He'll what? Is he so twisted as to kill her?_

He shook off the thoughts, and focused on his gun. He would kill Cloud if he had to.

"Please surrender, Tifa," Cloud continued with the same tenderness in his voice. She faced him with a blank face.

"No forgiveness... nothing left..." she mumbled with a far away voice. Vincent took a cautious step forward. The other two didn't move.

_No, not nothing..._

"Are you giving up that easily Tifa?" Vincent asked, with an edge of desperation in his voice, "Is his forgiveness worth so much more than life?" She blinked her blank eyes at him.

"You're going to listen to a _demon_, Tifa?" Cloud replied calmly, a cold stare fixed on Vincent. Tifa shook her head, causing Cloud to smile again.

"Tifa... please..." Vincent pleaded, trying to calm the trembling of his hand, "I..."

"What?" she whispered, the hint of her usual vivacious nature passing quickly in her voice. He clenched the gun, finally staying his hand. Cloud opened his mouth to say something...

"...Because I love you, Tifa," he burst out, before Cloud's serpent tongue could further poison the air. She smiled that sad smile while the tears spilled down her cheeks. Then she took a cautious step towards him. She didn't see Cloud raise his sword as she feebly began to move towards Vincent.

"BEHIND YOU!" a shrill voice cried out, but the sword was already in motion...

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AN: Don't kill me. I'm a suspense writer, cliffhangers are natural for me. And no, he's not _really_ evil. Ok, maybe a little. I'll try and update soon. At least I update faster then most people, eh? 

HypernatedRikku: Calm. Just have a little faith in me, ok? When I say clouffie, I mean clouffie. Just remember her metaphor for love...something along the lines of a car wreck...

Theme song: _Going Under_ Evanescence


	13. Alla Zoppa

AN: 12/5/04. Revised. I didn't like how I ended this chapter particularly. And T. Pirate was kind enough to point it out too. So, I changed it up a bit. Makes things longer. I'll have a new chapter sometime soon hopefully, once I get my homework done. (looks up and whistles)

avalon-chan: Looks like someone has read Obsession carefully. I do realize that I have explained the idea before, but the redundancy was intended. I really wanted the idea of an Emotive to be clear. Even still, you can interpret things however you want, as I left certain details purposefully vague. I'm glad to see that someone read the prequel well, though. Thank you.

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**Chapter 13 – Alla Zoppa**

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All was sound and smell in her mind. Her eyes betrayed her, as did her hands, but her ears and nose and mouth... they never did. In battle, she relied on them; she knew the sound of metal slicing air, slicing armor, and slicing flesh. The scent of metal also changed in different elements, taking on the properties of the medium.

"_What do your senses tell you?" Godo told her, placing the blindfold over her eyes._

She had screamed, smelling the preemptive blood and gun metal. Her hands and eyes were numb. Her heart was beating so fast, and she didn't know why. She didn't know why she ran here either. She couldn't see, with her eyes shut so tight. So she heard it all first, after the rawness of her throat gave way.

A gunshot. Tifa's strained voice. Metal hitting the floor. A body hitting the floor. Another scream.

_What do they tell you now Yuffie?_

Her nostrils filled with gun smoke, causing her to choke it back silently. Once her lungs had cleared, she smelled metal. Metal tinged with blood. And more blood, the air was filled with the scent of blood...

Cloth ripping and a pained moan assailed her ears.

She opened her eyes.

Vincent and Tifa were crouched over Cloud, wrapping his arm with a red cloth. Tifa's fingers trembled as she muttered something, while Vincent's face watched her with little expression.

"What the HELL is going on?!" Yuffie screeched, regaining her voice. Vincent looked up, calmly turning his head to her.

"I shot him," he replied, like she had just asked him whether or not it was raining outside. She blinked.

_Is he... no, he can't be..._

"W-what happened to me?" Cloud breathed out, clear blue eyes scanning the blood around him, "Where did all this blood come from?" Tifa sobbed a little, but her eyes held no warmth for him. Vincent turned back to what he had been doing; applying pressure with another torn piece of his cloak to a small gash on Tifa's back.

_There's so much blood, and they're acting so calm, so strange, but Cloud's eyes... they don't look so cold... and what the hell happened...?_

"He's not dead?" Yuffie whispered, eliciting an odd hoarse laugh from Cloud.

"He'll live," Vincent muttered, with the best indications that it was purposeful. Yuffie relaxed. Tifa finished with the bandage and slumped back, leaning against Vincent.

"What happened? Why did you shoot Cloud? Why are you cut?" Yuffie stammered out, shakily walking closer to the odd scene, shuriken still gripped in her hand.

_He shot Cloud. He **shot **Cloud. What the fuck? He shot him. He shot him..._

"He was so cold," Tifa whimpered, pressing closer to Vincent's crouched form, "Just like..." He whispered something into her ear and she stopped, giving Yuffie a shaky smile.

"Vincent!" Yuffie said sharply, brows furrowed in anger, "You _shot_ him!" Vincent sighed.

"How often do I miss?" he let out, trying to move Tifa to stand. Yuffie opened her mouth, but then promptly closed it.

_So he wasn't trying to kill him... what was he doing?_

"Can I sleep?" Cloud asked humorlessly, "I feel... tired..." Yuffie knelt down, and clasped his hand.

"Sure, just don't bitch at me about it," she muttered, giving him a wry grin. He smiled and closed his eyes.

_Later..._

The gash only stung when she turned a certain way. It wasn't deep; she had experienced worse cuts in battle. It only hurt when she let it, she realized, but it was slowly pulling her mind out of the numbness that had taken over.

_What happened? Why was he so... cold?_

Tifa shivered. He was sleeping now, in her room. She couldn't let him sleep in the children's dormitory room, and didn't want small prying eyes to bother him on the couch. She was glad that Shera had kept them all within the classroom when the shot rang out; that woman's motherly instincts were enough to lock the door and tell the children to huddle under their desks.

The older children looked the most frightened when she came to get them. Their hollow eyes reminded her of the state in which she found most of them. She and Vincent made sure to clean up the blood and get Cloud out of sight before cautiously knocking on the door and giving Shera the all clear. She especially didn't want Kale to see him; for it was Cloud who caught the boy picking his pockets and brought him to Tifa.

_Enough Tifa! Memory won't do any good. Memory only brings sadness... and guilt...._

"Godammit Vince!" Yuffie's clear and high voice screeched, "Cut the damn cryptic shit. Tell me what's wrong with Cloud!"

Hours had passed from Tifa's unsteady gaze. The uneasy sleep of the children allowed for the remaining adults to speak with each other, but for the past hour, no one spoke. Yuffie's quiet form unsettled Tifa the most; she was used to Vincent's silence. Hearing the young woman's demands put a tired smile on Tifa's face.

_Yuffie seems the farthest removed from this mess... but that can't be true. Anyone who cares for Cloud ends up with his problems. Even Aeris, for that short while, hidden underneath that good natured laugh and beyond her fate there was that tinge of helplessness. That's what it is. He makes you feel helpless._

She shook her head. Memory again. She wanted to shake it all off. Luckily, Yuffie was persistent in her demands, and her voice gave Tifa something to focus on.

"He's not _right_, Vincent! And you shot him!" Yuffie continued, with her controlled hysterics, "What the hell _happened_!" Vincent stared down at her, the inner struggle for truth evident by his tightened neck muscles. Then he averted his eyes from her.

"How far are you willing to go?" he asked, his voice low, "Are you a mercenary or a friend? You cannot be both." Yuffie glared at him angrily, despising the calmness of his voice.

"She's already in far enough, Vincent," Tifa said weakly causing the other two to turn and look at her. It was almost as if they had forgotten she was there. She cleared her throat.

"And besides, it's my fault anyway. You shouldn't be concerned with her loyalty," she continued, her voice warming up, "I think we _all_ deserve an explanation." She gritted her teeth on the last part. Vincent looked away as her tone changed, and she regretted it instantly.

_There was something else, something important just happened... something Vincent said..._

"My notes are on the table," he said coolly, indicating with a flick of his hand. Yuffie trotted over, giving Tifa a flash of a smile. Tifa felt too tired to smile back. They all settled in their seats. Vincent shuffled through the papers, and raised on eyebrow to Tifa.

"Maybe I should start?" she said, catching his subtle hint. Yuffie let out an impatient breath.

She explained what she knew about Surrender to Yuffie. How he had posed as Cloud for those years, and how she later discovered that Cloud's spirit was bound to it somehow. How after he had come back from limbo, they thought it was gone. How Cloud had seemed fine, so they didn't feel the need to watch him carefully. He checked in enough with the former teammates to allow Tifa to get too comfortable.

"We didn't tell anyone about Surrender," Tifa said with the quiver returning to her voice, "Because we wanted to give him a chance to be normal again. For him to find out what _he_ wanted. I suggested that he travel for a year or so and come and tell me about it when he was done. I thought..." Vincent cleared his throat.

"That's enough for now," he said gently. Tifa nodded.

_Vincent, help me... I can't save him. He always makes me feel so helpless. But you said something to me, what did you say? Why can't I remember?_

"Shit, he's more fucked up than I thought," Yuffie commented, balancing her chair on two of its legs, "So he's possessed then, right?" Vincent shook his head.

"Maybe before, when he and Surrender were separate entities," he said slowly, eyes downcast, "but that is not the case anymore." Yuffie blinked.

"Come again?" she said, leaning forward and letting the airborne chair legs land with a thunk on the wood floor.

"I'm saying that if things progress as they have thus far," he spoke with a low tone, eyes transfixed in front of him, "There will be no way to tell the difference."

_Then Surrender will consume him. Oh no..._

"Why would that happen? What _is_ Surrender, really?" Tifa asked, hands clasped in front of her. Vincent took a deep breath.

"Have you ever been angry enough to want to kill someone?" he murmured, his tones low and silky, "Or envious? Or consumed by desire?" She nodded, and glanced over at Yuffie, who had lean back again in her chair.

"Well, Tiveph discovered that something unusual happens with the human spirit," he continued, his voice more tangible, "If triggered with the proper catalyst, it can spawn another pseudo consciousness. It will remain dormant in the person unless it is properly awakened." Tifa stared at him wide eyed, while Yuffie leaned forward with another satisfying thunk.

_What did the Legend say? Something familiar. Oh, "Of these weaknesses of man, take caution to moderate the seven most deadly: sloth, lust, envy, greed, gluttony, anger, and pride. Take heed lest you awaken the destroyer of souls; the schism of the mind."_

"Vince..." she whispered, reaching over to grab his hand, "Is that what happened to... Sephiroth?" He shook his head. She turned her eyes downward.

"How can I help?" Yuffie asked, her tone usually quiet, which elicited a wane smile from Tifa.

"We must wake him up," he said, looking up and meeting Tifa's eyes. She stared for a moment, silence among the three calming her now. She stared long and hard at him, unable to look away. There was something there, something strange. His face was neither kind nor hard, but not distant. It was pained and lined, but somewhere in his slightly glowing eyes, lingered something else.

_Is that hope, Vincent Valentine? Do I see hope in your eyes?_

"If you would like to help him through this," he continued, unmoving, "I will not stop you." His hand twitched underneath hers, startling her, for she had forgotten it was still placed there.

_You're not... jealous, are you?_

"I don't know," she said, removing her hand, "Maybe I shouldn't speak with him yet. He seems so angry..." Vincent looked back down at the table. Tifa glanced over at Yuffie, who was pretending that she wasn't watching their every move.

_Maybe there's someone else, someone with more sense..._

The shinobi noticed her attention, and flashed Tifa a quick grin. She returned it, and then glanced back over at Vincent. He had been looking up, and averted his eyes as soon as she looked at him.

_You're hiding something from me! How could you? Of all people..._

"I need to get some air," she said, swallowing a lump in her throat, "I just need to get out..." Vincent raised his head as if to stop her, but then looked down at the table again. She frowned, standing up from her seat, noisily scraping the chair as she moved it. He did not move.

"So cold," she whispered, closing her eyes. Then she calmly started walking towards the door.

_This is what you get, Tifa. For your locked heart. If only I had said something sooner..._

Her eyes blurred, and she started running, breaking free of the warmth of the house. Her feet knew where to go, that was never the problem. Her body didn't need a heart, it didn't need a mind. It could kill and it could defend; it was trained and honed. She only wished that internally she could be so secure.

With the slam of the door he finally looked up, eyes transfixed on the path of her flight. He was frozen in the moment, his face confused and hurt, an odd show of humanity on his part.

"Go after her, you idiot," Yuffie demanded, pulling some of the papers in front of her, "I'll educate myself. Go!"

He smirked at her, before getting up from his seat.

"There are bigger problems than men and women, you know," he said, his feet tugging at him to leave. Yuffie grinned.

"Not from where I'm sitting," she said, as he disappeared from sight.

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AN: Stupid horizontal rule won't work...

Theme songs: _Staff Roll_ ATLUS (Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne Soundtrack) and _Just Get through This Night_ Styx


	14. Deceptive Cadence

AN: Finals is happening this week, so there won't be updates until it's over. This chapter was written in bits and pieces over the course of a week, whenever I was too frustrated to study. Also, I went and revised the ending of the last chapter, so if you haven't done so already, I would suggest reading it. Thanks for all who are still out there! Your reviews make me smile. On with the show!

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**Chapter 14 – Deceptive Cadence**

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_Think back... to the beginning._

He lay on his back staring up at the dark ceiling, seeing illusions of movement. His mind was a blank from when he left the bar until he woke up in Tifa's room. He knew it was her room from the picture she kept on her nightstand; it was all of them, during the last reunion.

Her beaming face was near the center, between him and Vincent. Yuffie had poked her head in from behind them, giving Cloud and Tifa bunny ears with her fingers. Barret stood in the back, holding Marlene on his massive shoulders. Cid stood on the other side of Vincent, with Shera standing in the front.

He'd seen that picture before, but for some odd reason he'd stared at it earlier, when the last rays of sunlight came in through the window. Now, though, it was dark, too dark to do anything other than sleep or think.

_The beginning of it all. When you first felt it, that splinter in your mind._

He couldn't think of it. It was strange, and uncomfortably natural for his consciousness to be so fractured. This was his sanity.

_**Sanity? **_

Even he couldn't help a dark chuckle at that. Such a ill-fitting term for his usual state of mind. And now, he knew something strange, if only he could wrap his mind around it...

There was a small knock on the door.

He bolted up, making himself a little dizzy in the process. He knew that the door was locked, so whoever it was wouldn't be able to get in. But as if to prove him wrong, a tiny sliver of light broke through the darkness. He shielded his eyes as it expanded, revealing a petite silhouette.

"Thief, remember?" she said, twirling a small and thin object around her finger, "Tifa can't lock _anything_ away from me." She smiled at him humorlessly, however.

"Why are you here, Yuffie?" he groaned, his eyes getting a rest as she closed the door again. She scoffed.

"You sure are friendly," she replied, plopping down somewhere on the bed, unsettling his position slightly, "After all I've done for ya. Well, that's _some_ people's gratitude for ya..." He did not respond. She frowned.

"Do you know why I'm here?" she said finally, her usual frisky tone abandoned. He stared.

_I don't think I'll ever understand you..._

"Why?" he asked, startling her with the sound of his voice. She quickly composed herself and continued.

"Because I know you don't want to talk to _them_," she continued, "Not while you're feeling all betrayed and shit." He smirked at her language, which always managed to sneak in no matter how serious she tried to be.

"Betrayed? I don't feel..." he whispered, looking down at the bed covers, "...Anything. I'm a void, Yuff." She sniffed.

"Bullshit," she replied, glaring at him, "I won't believe that for a second." He looked up at her, startled

"I saw that look on your face. It couldn't be anything but emotion," she declared, leaning over to prop herself on an elbow. He stared at the wall.

"I mean, Tifa's great and all, but she sure didn't do right by you," she continued, a spice of sage old wisdom coloring her voice, "Avoiding the issue. You and her... you've got that in spades." He sighed.

_When did you suddenly grow up? _

"You're right," he breathed out, "But you're missing an important part." He felt, rather than saw the curious look that spread across her face.

"Oh?"

"Aeris," he whispered, like a sacred rune. He heard her exhalation.

"So Cait was right," she whispered back, "You _were_ meant-"

"No," he said with a soft forcefulness, "Don't make the same mistake Tifa did." She sat upright again peering at him closely.

"Aeris was and always will be Zack's girl," he continued, "I couldn't do that to him. Hell, I miss her more than anything, but..."

"We all loved her," Yuffie interrupted, "I understand."

_Understand? Do you, really?_

"That's why I was angry with Tifa," he resumed, "The day that Tiveph killed me. That's what the fight was about. She thought that I was in love with Aeris. And the part of me that was Zack did. But..." He put his hands on his head. Suddenly it was throbbing, and he felt dizzy.

"Cloud? Cloud!"

_**Stop acting so human..**_

"Can you hear me?"

_She lied to you._

"This isn't funny!"

_**Don't you remember that?**_

_The feel of the blade in your hand._

**_What does the hero do when the threat is gone?_**

_There are no villains anymore._

_**Let's shake things up.**_

"Cloud! Wake up!"

_Elsewhere..._

It was freezing outside, and he pulled his cloak tighter around himself. He walked with no sense of urgency, he was far past that now. He cursed under his breath.

_I thought I had left that hasty gut instinct behind. Foolishness._

A particularly strong gust threatened to loose his grip, but he held fast. Something icily moist touched his face, and he frowned as more soon followed. Winter was finally descending. The sky soon filled with the feathers and skirts of snowflakes, and for a moment he was blinded by them. He blinked them away, as he finally saw a clear opening.

He would have recognized that form anywhere.

She was huddled from the cold, a bundle of sweater that didn't block the wind, and dark hair that flew around violently in every gust. He fought an impulsive tick that told him to run to her, to throw his cape around her and to hold her. Instead another impulse won out.

"You shouldn't sit out in the cold like that," he said, giving her cause to whip around and face him, her teeth chattering., "You'll freeze." She laid her head on her knees, and peered up at him like a child. He grinned underneath his cape.

"Why do you keep following me?" she asked innocently, betrayed by the tired and aged look of her expression. He shrugged, and settled down next to her.

"I could ask the same of you," he answered, fiddling with the buckles of his cloak. She raised up her hand to stop him.

"You'll freeze too, you know," she said, lifting her head from her knees, "Stubborn."

_So I'm stubborn? Well, I'll just have to keep that up then._

He undid the last buckle and tossed the cloak at her. She was too cold to argue anymore and huddled up in it.

"Thank you," she mumbled, half her face obscured by red fabric, "...but why?"

_Why? Why do I bother? Because you make me feel human. Because I would live for you. _

"Why what?" he answered, pulling his arms around himself tightly. Without his cloak he felt the cold keenly, although it never really bothered him. He wasn't afraid of freezing. It was the sun that he hated, with its searing heat.

"Why are you hiding something from me?" she whispered the urgency in her voice, "And why can't I remember?" She buried herself deeper into his cloak, only her eyes and the top of her head were visible.

_So you don't remember then. Surrender still has a hold on you. It was only temporary, my intervention. I still stand as nothing. _

"Why? Because you're don't need anymore worry," he said gruffly, hunching his shoulders, "Your memory is linked with Surrender still. Perhaps because you won't give up on Cloud." Her eyes watered and he could imagine her scowl underneath the fabric.

"B-but I don't love him," she whimpered, a small and muffled sound. He raised an eyebrow at her.

_But is that true? Can we ever get over that first damaging love?_

"You may say that," he answered, his posture still defensive, "But do you believe that?"

"Do you love Lucrecia still?" she asked, blinking the moisture in her eyes away.

_Do I? Ideally, yes. But in reality? That would be suicide. I'm too attached to life. You would be proud. _

"Does it matter?" he replied, turning his face upwards, into the falling snow. He heard her sniffle a little. Then he felt a warm hand on his chin.

_Why do you always feel so warm?_

"Yes it does," she replied, her face uncovered, as she pulled on his chin to make him face her, "I won't play second to a memory." He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Neither will I," he whispered before he had the chance to think.

"I think I remember now," she continued, "Just snippets really. They are somewhere in your face. I can see that." He felt his face tugging at him to smile, to speak, to do something. He smirked.

"Really? I have that effect?" he muttered, trying to pull away from her hand.

"Did you mean it? Or were you being chivalrous?" she breathed out icy patterns, but all he felt was warmth. He suddenly felt very cold, and wished that he had his cloak back.

_Perhaps you have your memory after all. Damn._

"What would you like me to answer?" he replied carefully. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"The truth, of course," she whispered onto his collarbone. He swallowed again.

_Desist or I will be forced to kiss you._

"...Yes. Now come inside before you freeze," he mumbled, trying to pull away and stand. He fumbled, ending up balanced on one elbow with her having fallen halfway onto him. She was laughing at his discomfort, confusing him.

"I'm relieved," she said, grinning at him mischievously, "Yuffie probably would have killed you otherwise." His eyes opened wide as she said this. She laughed again.

_Yuffie? Doubtful._

"Could you move then?" he asked, back in his normal polite tone, "It is cold out here. We should go inside." She shook her head, her mouth down turned. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I want you to promise me," she whispered into his ear, "that you'll stay. That you won't disappear." He shivered, uncomfortable with the warmth of her breath on his ear.

"...I promise."

"Help! Something's wrong with Cloud!" Yuffie's yell broke through the air, and they were both running toward the house, just running...

_Please forgive me, Tifa._

_

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AN: Ahem. Sorry to all you Aeris/Cloud fans out there. That is just my interpretation from the game. And no, I don't hate Aeris, so please keep those comments to yourself.

Theme songs: _Precious Illusions_ Alanis Morissette and _Bury Me_ Val Emmich

Another Cloud Theme Song: _Breaking the Habit_ Linkin Park


	15. Aria: Aeris

AN: Finally, I get a chance to update this. I had a lot of fun with this chapter. Firstly, this is in Cloud's perspective in the beginning, and then switches to Tifa's at the end. There are not thoughts, but this chapter really didn't need them. Some more experimentation on my part. And as always, I apologize if you're confused. I am a weirdo. That is all I can say about that.

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**Chapter 15 – Aria: Aeris**

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"Are you going to sleep all day?" a gentle female voice whispered in his ear. Cloud's eyes popped open, and he bolted upright. He took a quick appraisal of his surroundings, but none of it made sense.

"W-where am I?" he asked no one in particular, for there appeared to be no one around.

"You are where I called you," the voice replied, "Between dreaming and waking. When you can still remember the dream, but are too awake to keep dreaming it."

He was on a bed, that was for sure, with a pale blue blanket covering his lower half. The rest of what he supposed was a room was a stark white, which assaulted his eyes in an unpleasant manner. He brought his hand up to shield his eyes, but when he did so, he saw a small flicker of color appear in one of the corner.

A flicker of... pink.

"Aeris?" he asked, hoping that the delusions of his own mind weren't playing evil tricks on him.

"Yes, Cloud?" she replied, materializing at his side. Despite the fact he knew she was an illusion, he wanted to believe she was real for an instant.

"So you did come back," he whispered, near reverently. She shook her head, tousling the curls that fell on the sides of her face.

"Even _you_ know that I am not real," she said, without smile or frown. He sat up straighter.

"Then why am I here?" he asked, with urgency in his voice, "Am I dead? Then where is Surrender? Am I free?" She tapping a finger thoughtfully on her nose.

"I am only the face for the unsoiled parts of your mind," she spoke mirthfully, grinning from ear to ear, "Your idealistic side. What is good in you."

"So my idealism is good?" he replied, his brow furrowed. She giggled.

"Why else would Tiveph have chosen you?" she whispered, leaning in closer, "Surely you must know that."

"...I guess. But what is Surrender? Why does he keep saying we are one in the same?" he queried, running a hand nervously through his hair. She lightly touched his shoulder.

"Because he is," she said cheerfully, and then lowered her voice, "There is a darkness inside of all of us, just as there is a light." He frowned.

"You are not evil, Cloud. Nor are you perfect, just as I was in life," she continued, her expression like snow on a spring day; cold yet promising warmth, "I am no angel, just as you are no angel."

"But you are an Ancient, Aeris," he whispered reverently. She shook her head again.

"Half-Ancient. And Ancients are not perfect, Cloud. I was far from perfect," she spoke firmly, "You must let go of that silly idea. You must stop this irrational... worship."

He crossed his arms, and stared her down defiantly.

"What is it you want, then?" he asked, regaining his old mercenary look. She laughed loudly at his face, until it melted into a half pout.

"Do you not see what this fracturing is doing to you?" she spoke when she caught her breath, "Why do you hide pieces of yourself all over your mind?" He stared at her blankly.

"Do you know where Surrender came from?" she whispered, eyes downcast. He shook his head in reply, still staring.

"Any time you have ever thought of hurting someone, every look of love that went unreturned..." she recited, like reading from an ancient book, "Cloud, he is every part of you that you want to hide. All the anger towards the people of your village, your resentment at not making SOLDIER, and... your old obsession with Tifa. Tiveph just added the proper chemicals so that your brain would develop it faster."

"And what about you?" he snapped at her, but then quickly shut his mouth. She grinned.

"I'm there too, when you dream," she replied, "That little infatuation you masked with lies about Zack. It's alright, I've already forgiven you." He fiddled with his hands, and stared at the wall.

"You'll be waking up soon," she said, looking through him, "...Don't fight him, or let him consume you. Just... accept. Let go." He blinked, and soon everything was far less bright, and it was dark so dark...

Dark eyes, with red rims were staring directly at his newly opened eyes.

"Cloud?" she said, with a quiver in her voice, "Are you ok?" He labored a smile, and soon the owner of the eyes was hopping around the room.

"Hey guys! He's awake! He's ok! Come and see!" Yuffie's shrill voice echoed through the house, and he heard footsteps coming near.

"Let go," he muttered to himself, "...surrender. I think I get it now."

_In the real world, earlier..._

"It's a comatose state," Vincent murmured to Tifa, out of Yuffie's earshot, "Like he's dreaming and refuses to wake up." Tifa nodded solemnly, staring down at the folded hands in her lap. He let out a deep breath.

"Did you know that Sephiroth was born with brown hair?" he articulated, with words he had rolled in his head for awhile, "It was only when he was ten years old that his hair turned silver." She continued to stare at her hands. He chanced moving closer to her on the couch.

"He is the only known example of a person with a naturally occuring Emotive," he continued, staring off into the distance, "Probably because his mother is Jenova. Only people with Jenova cells have a mind that can fracture so easily. The others... Hojo, Lucrecia, Cloud... all the chemical meddlings of Tiveph. Trying to find the perfect backup for his 'angel'."

"But why do I see it? Why does Surrender take away my memories?" she whispered, worrying the hem of her pants. He lightly placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Because you were the catalyst," he whispered into her ear, "It's always that first damaging love that does it. For Sephiroth, it was his mother, the real one. An Oedipus complex if you will." She wrinkled her nose at the thought.

"Then what should I do? Will I ever be... free?" she said as she turned to him. He half smiled at her, staring down her reddening eyes.

"Let go..." he whispered carefully, "...surrender." She paled at the words, but her eyes were slowly becoming more brown.

"What about you?" she replied, teasing a lock of his hair, "Are you free?"

"I have been forgiven," he said quietly, "And I have let go. Is there anything else you want from me?"

"To not flinch," she breathed, leaning in and breaking their unspoken barrier. For the second time in their lives, their lips met, and for the first time, they were both concious.

"Hey guys!" Yuffie burst in, waving her hands around erractically, "Whoa! Didn't need to see _that_!" She stared agog, with a fish-like expression.

"Your timing in impeccable," Vincent muttered. Tifa blushed.

"Umm...what is it, Yuffie?" Tifa managed to spit out. Yuffie finally closed her mouth and smirked.

"Cloud's awake! Didn't you hear me shouting before?" she said, arm crossed and lightly tapping a foot. Vincent ran a hand through his hair.

"We were otherwise occupied," he stated plainly, and carefully got up. He helped Tifa up, and gestured towards the room where Cloud was.

"C'mon! I haven't got all _day_!" Yuffie screeched impatiently, as she bounded ahead of them.

"Do you think we'll ever live that down?" Tifa whispered to him. He smiled.

"Not in a million years," he replied. She grinned mischieviously at him as she grabbed his arm.

"Did I ever tell you that I loved you?" she whispered as they walked.

"You just did," he answered, holding open the door for her.

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Theme Song: Must Be Dreaming - Frou Frou 

AN: Yes, they smooched. I couldn't help it, I was feeling romantic. That, and those two deserved a break, I've tortured them enough.


	16. Semplice: Yuffie

Whoa. I never really realized how many reviews this little story has gotten. I'm touched, really. Never thought I'd write anything worth reading. There's at least a few people out there, and I thank you.

T.C. Linden: You are cool beyond words, reviewing with poetry. That was my first literary art, and what I think is the purest form of human verbal expression.

Oh, and this is entirely in Yuffie's POV. Another break from the usual setup. Will do something similar in the next chapter.

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**Chapter 16 – Semplice: Yuffie**

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She didn't know what prompted her to check in on him less than ten minutes ago. At the time, Vincent and Tifa were discussing things on the couch, and Yuffie was trying her best to avoid them. They made her uncomfortable lately, giving her an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. Unresolved people issues always did that to her. That and bad sushi. But she didn't want to think about food right now. Or that image that she was sure was permanently burned on her retinas. Grossness.

It was after Cloud was awake that things got their strangest; at least in her mind. He didn't speak or look at anyone at first, which made Vincent uneasy, or as uneasy at that man could get. Yuffie still had a hard time telling the difference between smiling and grimacing in his expression. Then again, she was never one for subtlety.

"...I think... I think I found her."

When Cloud had uttered those words, a change came over everyone, not just himself. Tifa looked down at the ground for a moment and then turned her face towards Vincent, as if waiting for him to say something. And that was the oddest part... he did.

"Then it has begun."

His response was simple, and frustratingly vague. Yuffie could never understand how a person could say less when they spoke. But Tifa seemed to get it, further confusing an already confused Yuffie.

But she would get no explanations. Not then. Not even now, as she stared up at the blank ceiling willing herself to sleep, but failing. And it was tiring. So... tiring.

"God damn it all," she muttered to herself as she lifted her body off the cot Tifa had set up for her. She didn't particularly like the arrangement, but with one room full of children, Vincent and Tifa conspicuously on the couch, and Cloud in Tifa's room... there were few options. At least she didn't have to sleep in the bathtub.

She tiptoed in her socks, a very gentle sound on the wood floors. She passed by the main room, and avoiding looking at the two awake figures on the couch; she didn't need anymore nightmares about _that_.

She had plenty to deal with on her own. So, for perhaps the second or third time in her young life, she hesitated.

She was just outside of Tifa's door, standing in the hallway, with her hair a mess and missing her shoes. On the other side was that which she feared most. Reality. A man who was just a little messed up, who dreamed of dead girls and tried to possess real ones. An imperfect and soiled being... like her.

There was a term for her previous affliction. Hero worship.

"But what does the hero do when the evil is gone?" she caught herself mouthing aloud, and clapped her hand over her least favorite feature. She didn't want to alert him to her presence, not until _she_ willed it. That was her way; spoiled and confident. That was something that would never rub off, for all the erosion age would afflict her.

But her mind traveled back to it. That term, that damned hero worship. The things that teenaged crushes were built upon. Such an unsteady foundation, like a building on sand. But it was worse now.

She damn well loved that head case.

She saw it now, her coquettish and vixen ways from before were just a fine mist before the real storm. And oh, how it was raining now. A car wreck was nothing compared to this.

It was when he opened his eyes, revealing that they hadn't slipped into the evil green she feared they would be. So damned _blue_. That's when she realized why Tifa had held such a tyrannical grip on him, that long but still so remembered time ago. There was nothing comforting or romantic in that blue; it was almost unsettling. But it drew her into it, into _him_ and it made her want to feel it, to understand it... to share it. It made her want... to protect him.

And how she hated _her_.

Yuffie already knew she was a flawed and fallen person. So hating the martyr of the planet was just something she could add to the list. She'd broken some many other stigmas, why not this one? It was what set her apart from the other women in her mind. Tifa was gorgeous, and insecure, and the other...

Aeris.

She was the embodiment of everything that bothered her. The bubble headed flirtations; the teasing way she left the bottom buttons of her dress undone, and that overdone feminine helplessness...

And that damned selfless act of redemption. If it really were so easy to be forgiven, to clean all the grime of life, Yuffie would have gotten herself killed years ago. How someone could act like she did and still be essentially _good_... That was what bothered her. Aeris lacked a true identity of her own; like she was the planet and femininity and whatever idea needed to be expressed at that particular moment. Nothing like that could exist for long. Not in Yuffie's mind, at least.

She never liked her. From the first moment she met her, running into Cloud and Barret and _her_... Those puny staff attacks, and non-offensive materia skills...

And Yuffie stole all of her materia, except that special one, right after she died. No one noticed. It was her evil little petty secret. And she still had that materia, along with the last Leviathan. She was the owner of the world's only remaining materia.

Sure, she had cried, but more for the loss of something within herself. She saw _death_. Real death. And she knew for an instant that nothing in her life could ever be worth that much, she'd never measure up to that fleeting glimpse of _sacrifice_. That was a discipline Yuffie had never been taught; had never cared to study.

And how she hated _her_.

Yuffie shook her head. She didn't know why the venom in the back of her mind rose to the fore, and was a little startled at the turn her actions were taking. Now she, Yuffie Kisaragi, she was no head case. She was glaringly imperfect, that's what she was...

That's why she disliked _her_ so much. She hated weakness. In any form. Something they had in common, in different ways...

"Miss Yuffie?" a quiet and gentle voice spoke, breaking her from her steadily descending inner monologue.

"Whaddya want, kid?" she whispered back, recognizing the girl from the use of 'Miss'. Only one child ever called her that seriously.

"Are they still awake?" the girl continued, carefully peering around on her tiptoes. Yuffie grinned.

"You probably shouldn't bother them, Audrey," Yuffie hushingly advised, still watching the girl's movements with amusement. Audrey nodded.

"So _he_ knows," she whispered, with a reverent emphasis on _he_. Her voice always changed when she spoke of Vincent. Yuffie thought it was absolutely adorable. Next to Rinna, Audrey was her favorite, even if she wasn't much of a talker. She still had time to learn.

"So you should go back to bed," Yuffie commanded, in as imperial a tone a whisper could allow, "I'll be doing watch duty." Audrey nodded again.

"He's lucky to have you watch over him," Audrey whispered before she silently went out of sight.

And Yuffie stared at the door, still a little puzzled that a twelve year old could say such things.

"Well, kid, here goes nothing..."

She was glad that the hinges on the door were well oiled. It made her entrance quiet, unobtrusive. Despite most people's impressions of her, she was most comfortable when she could use stealth; it enlivened her senses, and she reveled in that feeling.

"I heard you before you even entered the hallway."

In the dark, he couldn't see the grimace on her face. In the dark, she could pretend she was invisible. But she was never truly silent. Her daytime demeanor never fully faded away in the dark.

"Why aren't you asleep?" she asked, trying to keep the tone slightly annoyed. If she didn't watch it, she would start sounding like Tifa...

"I've had enough with dreaming," he answered. Cool. Collected. Like he'd been practicing the words for weeks, in front of the mirror when no one was looking.

"You too, huh?" she let slip, past the watchful guard of her mind. But she was kidding herself. Her mouth was its own malicious entity, waiting to destroy her with what lay in her thoughts.

"Aren't you afraid of me?" he quietly let out, like a slow hiss of air out of a balloon, "After what I've said, what I've _done_..."

"It takes one to know one," she added, hoping that the clichéd phrase didn't betray her lack of studious education. But then, she'd performed an even greater error. Comparing them. It was low to compare herself to him.

"I knew you were watching me, before the dreams started," he whispered, a sound that always made her shiver, "Eyes, dark and patient, so unlike the rest of you." She frowned, and for once, her mouth obeyed; staying shut.

"I want to talk to you, Yuffie. I think," he continued, his voice returning to a normal volume, "I think I trust you. You've changed, into something I wasn't expecting..."

She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want long discussions that ripped all her illusions to shreds and left all her images shattered to pieces. She wanted to be whole, and she wanted him to be whole. There were too many tattered people...

"No!" she gasped, her fists at her sides and her heart in her throat, "I am not your damned _therapy_!"

It was then that she saw it, the perfect blue glow that signified he had opened his eyes. And it caught her, with her mouth opened and eyes riveted to his darkened form.

"Always the faces of women..." he remarked, unfazed by her tantrum, "...How come I've never seen yours?"

And she choked on her words, literally drowning in her own worst affliction. She used to call it hero worship, before she knew what love was. And she still didn't _know_, really. But she felt it, the rain and thunder pounding in her skull.

"Maybe 'cause you've never looked at your own. Wrapped up in your own little world, waiting for something, and when it didn't happen, you blamed it on someone else..."

Her mouth was betraying her.

"...Dammit Cloud. Do you realize how many have loved you? And she, she died for you and for me and for the world..."

It wasn't making sense, and it was madness.

"...And I hated her. And I hated you. And I love you. But you have to be _whole_, Cloud. Whole. 'Cause you are supposed to be everything I'm not. Dammit, you're so fucking _perfect_."

She stopped, panting from the quickness of word and blood that had risen up in her.

"Someone told me that we are all imperfect," he replied, "We're just really good at hiding it."

And she stared, right into the glowing blue oblivion and then, then it just clicked, she could _see_ it. She saw all his fractured parts, all the hatred and love and violence and tentative want. And he knew it; she could see it in his eyes, in that terrible blue.

They both just wanted a little understanding.

And a shaky hand broke through the dark, not reaching out, not taking. It simply _held_ the tiny hand that sought its warmth.

"I see you."

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AN: Alright, before someone flames me about the Aeris comments made by Yuffie... it just makes sense to me. Tifa and Aeris were friends, that's very clear. And I could see Tifa and Yuffie getting along after it's all over. But I could never see Aeris and Yuffie getting along well. They would just clash, as they both are talkative and for other reasons. And also, this is not my excuse to be anti-Aeris. That would be childish. I'm just trying to go with certain themes, if you've noticed. Anyway, I've babbled enough. If you want to discuss my theories/beliefs about FF7, just email me. I like to hear ideas. 

Theme Songs: _Sleeping Beauty_ A Perfect Circle and _Days _David Bowie, and lastly _So Unsexy_ Alanis Morissette


	17. Muta: Tifa

AN: I'll be back in school on Monday, so things'll be slow for awhile. Thanks avalon-chan, for agreeing to disagree. I have odd interpretations, I know, but I am an idea person. And FF7 has enough ambiguity to allow me some ideas. Thanks again to my loyal reviewers. You make an unsure writer happy to write!

Tifa's POV. Last of the chapters of this type. Going back to normal format next chapter.

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**Chapter 17 – Muta: Tifa**

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Something wrenched in her heart when Cloud spoke of _her_. With his eyes clear and his voice muted. It was a frightening picture, but she knew it was alright. Vincent, with an unseen squeeze of her hand, had told her so. And she would believe anything from him.

Some would think she hated her. That Aeris was in the way of the man she had wanted, with a perfect laugh and a perfect soul.

But they would be wrong.

_Sister._ That was the word that came to mind when Tifa thought of her. And how her heart ached when she did. Once, her only female friend, and the person who had known her best. And, she liked to think that she knew Aeris best. For they were sisters, there was no denying that. In all but blood they shared that bond, and Tifa would honor that the rest of her days.

Even sisters sometimes love the same man. But it doesn't have to tear them apart.

She wouldn't have been happy, if Aeris had lived and Cloud had married her. That was for certain. She would have cried her eyes out and locked herself in her room.

But Aeris would have made her come out, coaxing her with that young sounding voice of hers. She would have made Tifa maid of honor, not to gloat, but because they were sisters, they were bound beyond what a man and a woman shared. And Tifa would have agreed and cried for happiness's sake when they said their vows. Because her sister would have found _her_ happiness. And what was better than that?

She knew that Aeris didn't want to die. She never wanted that. She wanted to give all her heart and soul, but she wanted to live. She wanted to see Cloud smile, and Yuffie apologize and Vincent laugh and Cid marry Shera. And she had told Tifa that she had a wish for her, that she wanted most of all. But she had never told her what it was. It wouldn't come true if she told her.

She knew that under all that Aeris had to do, all that she wished for, she was a girl. A girl who wanted to love and laugh and tend her flower garden. That was what she loved most about the planet, her Gaia: life. The planet was life to her. So why would she wish for death?

If Aeris were here now, she would tell her what to do about the man who was sitting a foot or so away from her on a couch. In the dark. Alone. She would have been teasing her for months, but would have probably helped things along...

Tifa shook her head, sending some stray hairs into her eyes. The one window in the main room provided some light, but since it was cloudy, the moon had little chance to shine through. The light came from the orange glow of the city, which could barely be seen peering over the hills. And it was with this hint of orange glow that mingled with Vincent's strange red eyes, giving their usual illumination a softer edge. They looked warm, like melting candle wax and red Valentine candies.

And she understood that dangerous pull he had. It was there, in the warmth that she saw it; he was _human_. So human and frail and stubborn. The very things she had feared from Cloud were now the things she loved from him. They made her bold, unlocking that hard box that she had kept her heart in. She never would have kissed him, if not for that. She knew that it was right, that six years of half glances and timid brushings had led her to that moment. She _had_ to.

And the foot of space between them was just _killing_ her.

He was still uneasy around her, that politeness would never wear off, she knew. But he didn't quickly glance away when she caught him looking at her. He gave her a quick half smile before turning his attention elsewhere. But she was more of a problem. She was the one who _stared_.

And she could tell that he knew it, but didn't care to comment.

He was a man of action; she'd learned that nearly right away from him. When she had learned to get words from him, she knew they were incomplete, grasping. There was always a part of him that lived thirty-six years ago, waiting for it all to be just a dream. Like any word he spoke would make it real, and let the nightmares win.

"We never really _talked_ did we?" she asked, nervously twirling a piece of her hair. He mulled over her question for a moment, and then something seemed to light up in his face.

"Of course we did," he leaned back as he spoke, "In that nonverbal, subtle way. I seem to have picked up a few of your... habits." She flushed, but kept eye contact.

"I want to hear _words_," she stated obstinantly, "I want to hear _your_ words." He folded his hands in his lap and waited. Just waited, for either his mind or his mouth to catch up—it was hard to tell which.

"Do you believe we can live like this?" he whispered, like the release of a thought far too long held back.

"...I don't know," she answered, a slight quiver in her voice, "Things might go wrong. We're only human, you know."

"Say that again," he replied, quick and quietly explosive. She blinked and smiled warmly.

"Which part?" she asked, holding back the corners of her mouth as she spoke. His eyes travelled to the floor.

"The human part..." he muttered, and then looked at her, "I am a fool, I suppose."

"Oh, Vin..." she said, causing a single tear to escape, "You _are_ human." And with that, she reached over and wrapped herself around him, either out of assurance or the simple need to touch him—she knew not which. And from the way he half grasped her; it seemed he didn't know either.

But that didn't matter. She'd spent far too much time thinking about yesterday and tomorrow. She wanted today. And today was holding onto her for dear life.

He pulled himself away for a moment, and then rested his forehead on hers. His long bangs fell to the sides, creating a barrier from the rest of the world for their faces. They stayed that way, both with their thoughts waiting for the other to speak. She knew that he would speak first, though. He didn't know it, but he always spoke first.

"...In my dreams," he whispered, his breath tickling her cheek, "...you always wear that one dress, the red one, that you wore once on Christmas. And you say things to me. About friendship and the good of people..." He paused, waiting for a signal to stop talking. She stopped her breath for a moment.

He was talking to her. About dreams. But it was there, that silent wish in the back of her mind...

He had been dreaming about _her_. Not some phantom of a past life.

"...But you are never smiling. And I know why," he continued, hushed and encompassing, "For how can one smile if they believe they are unloved?"

Another tear. She was getting sick of them, she'd shed so many recently. And the selfish part of herself knew who she was crying for. Herself. Sure, she had given her heart to everyone; her teammates, the children, and even Vincent. But who had given her theirs? Was it too much to ask for?

And he knew it. This stubborn old man who had frustrated her so much. This stubborn old man whose very frame begged her to touch him.

"Stubborn old man," she let slip with her exhale, causing his involuntary eyebrow raise. It almost tickled, the crease of his forehead, and the brush of his eyebrow. And for a moment she thought she had fallen into her thoughts. Falling, that was something she could do...

"I could say the same for you," he replied, with that edge of Cid's humor in his tone, "Except you are far from old and cannot even be confused for a man. I guess that just leaves stubborn." She closed her mouth, not realizing it had been lolling open. She could feel his humored grin through the space of air between their mouths, and she could feel it when it disappeared, fading into the darkness.

"You know that it really wasn't _her_, right?" he asked, as he pulled himself away from her, "That Cloud didn't really find her. But he did find something." She frowned, and he seemed ready for that response.

"I know you didn't want to hear about this..." he began but she made a strangling sound in her throat.

"This isn't atonement, you know," she said, her voice hard and unrelenting, "You can't buy your way to heaven by hiding things from people and then revealing them in small vague pieces!" She clapped her mouth shut on the last word, and he breathed in deeply.

"Is that what you think it is?" he replied, barely above inaudible, but he swallowed and his voice grew louder, "Do you even see what is in front of you?" And she knew she was angry at him, for reasons even he couldn't understand. Because she couldn't understand them herself.

"I don't know what to think! I've been losing memories, and regaining them..." she began, feeling that familiar throb in her knuckles, "...Cloud tried to kill me! And Surrender didn't go away! Do you know how many nightmares I've had? How afraid of sleep I am?" But she wanted very badly to retract her last phrase. She didn't feel right accusing him of not understanding _that_. Yet, she was human. And stubborn at that.

"I did not want to meddle not into that realm," he muttered, unconsciously gripping his knee, "Anything that may have gone on between you...and..." She glared as he looked at her, hiding his reaction to her expression. Something cruel in her, something she hadn't used since she was fifteen welled up inside her. That frightening part of her personality, covered with smiles and concern.

"Say _something_," she said, arm crossed and petulant. In normal circumstances he would have smirked, but instead he just sighed.

"I should never have come here, I should have stayed in Cosmo Canyon, I..." he said, a tired and aching sound in his voice, "...I...I..."

"Vincent."

She was already fighting it, that untapped cruelty. She felt it whenever Cloud gave Aeris that half grin, when she saw young couples with their even younger children, whenever Vincent said the name Lucrecia, every time his eyes glazed over in that certain way...

"......I love you," he said, clearly and resonating in his old well tuned vocal chords, "...and I do not want to protect you. I want to save you." The words didn't hold the same magic she imagined; everything wasn't suddenly, drastically happier and better. But it was good. Like knowing that he dreamed about her and warm tea on Sundays. She could live like this; she could _live_ like this...

"I think we can live like this," she said, quietly, like opening the curtains on a darkened room to reveal the sunset, "...I'm sorry..."

"Don't."

His trembling hand was on her lips, the human one, judging by the warmth. She smiled underneath it, that sad and real smile.

"There are no apologies. Only a shot in the dark at redemption."

And it was he who was bold this time, replacing his hand with even more trembling lips. She would have flinched, at the sudden action, but she didn't care anymore. They were going over the edge, and she was smiling at the dark. He was no demon, and she was no angel...

And there would be no peace on earth. But they could live like this. Always grasping, fumbling for each other. And when he broke away, looking confused and simply wanting...

"Will you fall with me?"

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AN: I had to write a trilogy of these odd chapters. I am obsessed with the number three, what can I say? I hope this takes away some of the unfinished feeling of their relationship. It's hard, cause their relationship isn't so verbal as it is the small nonverbal things... but that's how I write 'em. And no, I didn't write that Aeris part to make up for last chapter, that's how I really feel. See, I don't hate her!

Theme Songs: _Three Libras_ A Perfect Circle (this is _such_ a Tifa song!) _My Lover's Box_ Garbage and _Breathe In_ Frou Frou


	18. Bocca Chiusa

AN: This chapter's a little longer, and in the usual format. Just in case you're confused, this is in the guys' perspectives, starting with Cloud. I had fun mixing the moods in this one. And thanks again for the reviews... 87! Geez! That's a lot of reading! :) Thanks for following this crazy ride!

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**Chapter 18 – Bocca Chiusa**

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He was determined. Once Cloud Strife's mind settled on an idea, once he had a purpose, he could do anything. Or so he felt. After years in Limbo, hanging in between existence and nonexistence, he felt _something_. He was just on the edge of it, so close to an answer, so close to...

And he knew, once he told her, that she would go with him. She had no real ties to that place, that transplanted city. Her very eyes had pleaded with him, surprising him in the strangest way. In reality, she wasn't pleading so much as demanding; a silent and intense demand, as dark and deep as Wutain ink. Yuffie Kisaragi knew honor, and most of all...

_She knows me. The real me. She can see it, somehow. _

Neither of them hesitated with goodbyes, as they would have begged for in another time. They had no roots there; they were scattered seeds in the wind, for all that was worth. Her home was not ready for her, and his had long left him behind. They were caught in between time, and he knew he had pulled her into it. But they were too deep now, and he couldn't ask her to stay.

_And I don't want her to stay there. It's selfish, but I want her with me._

They dealt with the pain the same way: anger. She had called it hatred, and she had slandered against their failure, but he knew what it really was. Sadness, holding on. She couldn't let go of _her_ either, even though it was slowly killing her. Yuffie had the virtue of being young; young enough to be able to correct her mistakes. And he... did he still have time?

_Of course I do. That's what he told me. And I think I... believe him._

He smirked a little to himself. Somehow, he knew that the conversation had to happen. He knew that eventually their paths would cross and some sort of resolution would be made. It didn't quite turn out that way, however...

_Earlier..._

Vincent quietly dressed, trying not to disturb Tifa's sleep. He left her the cloak, fearing that the night's chill would wake her, and decided against the boots. Instead, he found a pair of softer soled shoes that she had jokingly bought him for his birthday, thrown carelessly in the corner. They weren't good for distances, but they would suit his purposes just fine. He needed to get away for a moment, just to sort out his head. That and something compelled him, he knew not why...

_This situation is tired and worn out, is it not, Valentine? She never really answered your question, did she?_

He stealthily glided out of the room, and out the door, his muscles remembering a training that his mind had long since forgotten. Like so many things it seemed. And before his mind could respond, he was on the snow covered hill, where Tifa often came to think. Where he often saw her, as he watched just out of sight.

_Once a stalker, always a stalker, it would seem. You never learn._

But he didn't have much of a chance to continue with his thoughts. He felt another presence, which was not altogether dangerous at the moment. It wasn't friendly either. A presence that would have surprised him, if the situation wasn't already a crazed mess.

"Couldn't sleep either, Strife?" he said cautiously, not turning his head to face him. He felt some annoyance from the other man, but it dissipated quickly.

"I've slept long enough," he replied, walking over and standing next to Vincent, arms tensely crossed across his chest. The older man gave him an eyebrow raise of greeting, but seemingly forgot about Cloud again.

"So..." Cloud continued, shifting his weight, "What now?" There was almost a humor in Cloud's posture and mannerisms around him. Almost like he was nervous. Vincent turned his head enough so that the younger man couldn't see his smirk.

"Why would you think I have any answers?" Vincent replied, the smirk fading into a line. Cloud shook his head.

"I don't really know," he admitted, with an ease and candor that surprised Vincent, "But I've got a feeling. That you know something." His reply was simple; a frown.

"I've meddled too much as it is," Vincent said quietly. Cloud breathed out heavily.

"Then do it for Tifa," Cloud replied, leveling him with a stare, "She's in this as much, if not more, than I am."

_How low, Strife. But I can't deny that there is a shred of logic there..._

"...I suppose that you thought appealing to that would work?" he deadpanned, feeling Cloud's immediate reaction. It wasn't angry, like he suspected, like he'd seen quite a bit since joining company with the young man.

It was desperate. And Vincent could almost hear Tifa chastising him. No, he didn't need to hear, the words were etched on the backs of his eyelids.

'_Can you really expect people to be kind to you if you're not kind to them?'_

Nothing more than an imitation of the golden rule, some widow's wisdom that passed through the lips of the one woman he felt was worth saving at this moment...

"You must cleanse yourself of the evil inside you," he finally said, while Cloud tried to mask his silent elation at the other man's words. It worked inasmuch as they both ignored it. But Cloud couldn't, and it was clear to Vincent that he was thinking... and about what, he could never imagine.

"...Is that what you did?" Cloud finally asked, soberly tired and looking terribly old. It was odd to see him this way, for it seemed to Vincent that Cloud was more of a lost child than a man. A terribly powerful lost child. Three steps away from either saving the world or destroying it. Like another he had met once.

"Hardly," he replied, stern and reprimanding, "...Just a matter of letting go. Nothing more." Cloud blinked, upon hearing the familiar words. Vincent didn't suspect anything, however.

'_Cloud... is always looking for something. A part of himself, maybe. But then, I guess we all are, after having lost so much...'_

Her words again, surfacing in his mind when he groped for answers. And she... didn't have answers, just fragments. But somehow it was comforting, knowing that. The searching, it could continue.

"You must seek it. The source of evil in this world," he finally let slip from the grasps of his mind. And Cloud let loose a sigh, something akin to grief and relief.

_You have to leave this place. So long as you are here, so long as she can see you, suffering that same damn pain... I cannot save her. You would pull her down with you..._

"Jenova. That's what this all leads to, doesn't it?" Cloud whispered, brow furrowed. Vincent nodded, not knowing or caring whether he saw. And then an idea seemed to dawn on Cloud, bringing back a familiar gleam to his eye.

"I'll go," he continued, his voice sounding similar to the old days, when the world fancied him a hero, "And I'll take Yuffie with me." Vincent frowned at this.

_So you've gotten to all the women, haven't you? You have no shame... or do you?_

"Be careful," Vincent replied, more of a command than a concern, "Your deaths will do you no honor. You still have time." Cloud smirked his mercenary smile with a hint of uncertainty.

"...Don't tell her where I'm going," he said, the smirk fading, "...I've done enough." Vincent nodded. Cloud had instincts in regards to Tifa's behavior, like fighting or surviving. Even when he was seemingly oblivious to her, he always handled her with the proper amount of distance and closeness; more distance, than closeness, however. And he understood Cloud's jealousy from before. For now, he felt the tiny pricklings of jealousy in the back of his own mind...

_I'll never know her as you have. But then, you'll never know her as I have. Does this make us even?_

"You do have time," Vincent repeated, with the commanding tone he'd seen Tifa use with disobedient children, "It's not too late for you, or for Tifa." Cloud shook his head.

"I'm leaving her up to you, Val-" he paused, considering his next move, "-Vincent. It's not too late for you either."

_Presently..._

"So, do ya have a plan?" she finally asked, breaking him from his thoughts. Cloud turned to Yuffie, who was standing in a position he'd come to associate with her brash tendency towards pushiness. He withheld the smirk.

"Not really," he replied, adjust his sword in its holster. He didn't remember it ever being so heavy. He must be slightly out of shape.

"Well, then what _are_ we doin?" she continued, impatient and demanding. And he saw it now, for all the vulnerability she had display earlier, she was still so essentially Yuffie. And it was refreshing.

"Thank you for coming," he said suddenly, with a nonchalant tone, "It's good to have company." She blushed furiously, but he had turned to the horizon line too quickly for her to see.

"Well, ya need someone lookin after yer spiky ass," she replied, as the red drained from her cheeks, "Ya'd get yourself killed or somethin." And he chuckled, a light and fragile thing.

'_Cleanse yourself of the evil inside you'... Maybe that's it. How I can find it. Find Jenova. _

"If you were evil, where would you hide..." he muttered to himself. Yuffie, being her usual self, assumed he was talking with her.

"Probably the ruins of Midgar," she replied thoughtfully, "No one goes there, and lots of energy and stuff was released..." He didn't listen to her ramblings right away, but his brain did process it.

"Midgar..." he said, and then whipped around and grabbed her shoulders, "Of course!" She seemed confused by his enthusiasm.

"Uh... ya, that's what I said," she replied, trying to suppress giving him a look that would indicate that she often questioned his sanity.

_You're so trusting of me... even when you seem to question me. Is this..._

They were walking for now, not having foresight farther than in front of their noses. Yuffie had stopped by the bar long enough to grab a small bag full of clothes and weapons, and left a note for her second in command to take care of the place. It wasn't like they had time anyways.

Did they?

Silence had fallen between them. He didn't know why Yuffie wasn't chattering like she usually did, but he also lacked skills in observation. But he didn't mind watching her as she walked, with determined and slightly bouncy steps. Like the teenager inside of her didn't want to give up all of its hold on her persona, but was quietly slipping away.

And yet, she was serious. Every word she spoke to him was in earnest, every glance deliberate and lingering.

_And she blurted something about loving me... in between hating me and Aeris. No, she used the past tense..._

For the most part, Cloud's mind was one track: their previous adventure had proven that. One goal at a time. One foot in front of the other. But now, even though he had found some purpose to strive for he felt...

Divided.

_**When have you ever been whole? You're a mosaic of other's experiences.**_

He was really beginning to hate that voice in his head. That part of himself. It made him want to kill and destroy and scream any time it's slithery consciousness made it's way into front of his brain. Yes, he knew he had faults. But that didn't mean he liked them being shoved in his face.

_And there is good in me too. There has to be. What else would I be fighting for?_

"...Do you think Tifa'll be worried when she finds out I'm gone?" Yuffie interrupted his train of thought, with a quiet and startlingly bold question. She certainly knew when he needed a distraction...

"I dunno," he said running a hand through his hair, which felt strange considering it was still down, "Probably. But don't worry yourself." Yuffie smiled at his unintended act of consideration. He was never the reassuring sort, the opposite in fact, and didn't quite understand what she was smiling about.

_She's just being Yuffie, I suppose._

But what _was_ Yuffie? She used to be rather annoying, with her thievery and total disregard for other's feelings. But she was always honest in a way. Crooked, but honest. And those were the parts of her that managed to survive all those years. She was funny, and real and so damn honest. She would never hold his hand and lead him along...

Now that he _saw_ her...

There was no telling what trouble they would get into.

"Hey! Let's get movin!" she barked out at him, as he almost stopped moving in the middle of his thoughts, "The sooner we figure out what's going on, the better!"

And it flashed through his mind, brief and completely overtaking his mental processes...

_Maybe I don't want this to end so soon._

_Elsewhere..._

She hadn't woken up when he crept back into the house, depositing his shoes back in the corner. She didn't wake up when Cloud and Yuffie crept out either, as he sat at the table, shuffling through his papers without reading them. In fact she was still asleep now, one arm slung carelessly across her eyes, shielding her from the light that was gradually coming in through the window.

And he was staring again. She would probably be sickened if she knew how many times he'd stared at her. He had gotten quite good at it too, with all sorts of tricks to appear aloof and uninterested. He didn't acknowledge them for the tricks they were, but ways to _be_ aloof and uninterested. Now, though, he didn't feel like pretending.

He wanted her to see his staring, and to see her staring back. He wanted her to wake up, and experience the day. He felt so goddamn... alive.

He crouched down beside her and tucked the hair away from the side of her face. Her fingers twitched, and he grinned a little at her reaction.

"Tifa," he whispered in her ear, "Wake up." She snored in his face. He decided that shaking her would work. But he forgot one important thing...

Tifa was a martial artist. And her arm was free.

Smack! The arm that was once covering her eyes had moved, connecting her fist with his face. He lost his balance, tumbling out of the crouch into a sprawled position on the floor. He was a strange sight, legs and arms and hair splayed about. He blinked once or twice and started to move.

But that's when he started laughing. A long hard and loud laugh. His sides ached from the exertion, not having laugh in quite some time. And still he laughed, undoubtedly waking up everyone within a five mile radius. Well, he thought so at least.

And he did wake a few people up.

A face, smiling like a thief, hovered over him, the tips of her hair inches from tickling his face. It only made him laugh harder, when the smile turned to a look of confusion. But soon he stopped, abruptly snapping his mouth shut. She looked even more puzzled.

_Your turn to look like a fool._

He smirked as he quickly sat up, pulling on her arm and dragging her onto the floor with him.

"Vince! Ah!" Tifa screeched as she fell with a thud next to him, her bum taking the brunt of the landing. Her face was a flush of red and she scowled as she rolled over to face him.

"What was the meaning of that?" she asked, trying her best to keep a serious tone. He smiled broadly.

"You have wicked reflexes in the morning," he teased, patting her arm, "You could have decapitated me." She grinned.

"Hey, aren't you supposed to kiss her or something?" Rinna's all too familiar voice floated from somewhere else in the room. Tifa's eyes grew wide as she shot up, and scanned the room around them.

Everyone was awake. And every single pair of eyes were watching her and Vincent.

"Eww, gross!" Kale replied, pretending to vomit, "Your stoopid Rinna!"

If he weren't already partially acclimated to this setting, Vincent would have begun to have serious thoughts with regards to Tifa. She was in some ways a single mom... of twelve.

_And another day begins..._

"I'll handle the red haired one," Vincent whispered to her, as she silently picked out the potential trouble makers.

"Rinna's mine," she whispered back, an almost evil gleam in her eye. She fixed a stare on the girl, who swallowed hard.

"Don't you have dishes duty today?" Tifa asked her sweetly, causing the girl to cringe.

_Poor girl... she cannot help that she is the evil reincarnation of Yuffie..._

"Um, no?"

"Guess again."

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Theme songs: _Clocks_ Coldplay and _Orestes_ A Perfect Circle 


	19. Impromptu Idee

AN: I have a plan! My crazed mind has finally thought of an end direction for this (for truly, I write rather _haphazardly_)! The end is coming, once I figure out how to get there. Oh, and as for last chapter, one clarification. Vincent calls Cloud, 'Strife' cause he's a little peeved at him. Not homicidal, but peeved. That was perhaps the hardest conversation I've had to write yet... so many ackwardnesses. Now for this chapter...

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**Chapter 19 – Impromptu Idee**

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So maybe suggesting Midgar wasn't one of her brightest ideas. She could see several downsides to that now. First case in point: it was fucking far away. And she didn't want to resort to the one thing that was nagging in the back of her mind. But she was tired, and certain things were bound to slip.

"Cloo-ud..." she whined. Yes, Yuffie Kisaragi had resorted to whining.

_He's like a goddamn machine sometimes. 'Let's mosey' and keep doing that for a fucking century..._

"What?" he asked, blinking out of the autopilot setting his mind and body had fallen into. She grabbed his arm, stopping his movement.

"We. Need. To. Stop," she said, standing with her arms akimbo, a determined crinkle in her nose. He couldn't help but smile at her stubborn posture.

"Alright, if you say so..." he said teasingly, watching for the frown to appear on her face. She obliged him.

_You're enjoying this, aren't ya? My pain and suffering..._

They set up camp quietly, as Yuffie was still a little miffed at his teasing. She wasn't really angry at him; she suffered from damaged pride more than anything. Some things about her would never change, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never get over her foolish pride. She would just have to teach him to deal with it.

The sun was beginning to dip near the horizon when they finally finished, with some blankets thrown near a gradually growing fire. Another thing they had forgotten in their rush was a tent; a fact that Yuffie was cursing silently to herself about. But for now they were settled, sitting on opposites sides of the fire, waiting for the other to begin speaking.

But Yuffie was far too impatient to wait long.

"What are you looking for, in Midgar?" Yuffie bluntly asked, all formalities aside. Cloud took a moment, as if trying to figure out his reasons himself.

"You could say..." he began after a time, "...my demons. Or at least the biggest of them." She raised an eyebrow at him, in mocking imitation of another person she found irritatingly vague.

"And that would be..." she prodded. He gave her a sharp and quick humorless chuckle.

"I need to see the church," he said, staring straight across the fire at her, "And tell her goodbye. In the ruins of Midgar." Her eyes opened wide and she gaped at him.

_That monster infested, energy radiating goo puddling, scary things that go bump in the night Midgar? You've got to be kidding me, Spike. _

"WHAT?!" she shouted, when she finally found her tongue again, "BY OURSELVES?!" He nodded, as if she had just told him there would be a slight inconvenience, like a pothole in the road.

"If I remember, you did say you were the best of the ninjas," he said smugly, even as she glared at him, "You could even beat _me_ up." She snorted.

"Is this a suicide mission?" she asked, an unusually serious tone in her voice, "'Cause I'm not quite up for that. I'm too young to die and all." He grinned.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked, a combination of innocence and carelessness in his features. It was then that she realized he didn't have the faintest idea what they were doing. Only a slight nudge towards Midgar, for some strange reason.

_Do I trust you? Of course. Do I trust you with that fucked up brain of yours? Not really._

"He didn't want you around, did he?" she slyly said, seeing that she was right from the expression that flickered across his face, "I think someone was a bit jealous. 'Course, I wouldn't blame him..." He furrowed his brows in confusion. Now it was her turn to smirk.

"...Really?" Cloud asked, trying to mask the extent to which his confusion ran. Her smirk turned from a smirk into a grin.

"You do remember that he's in love with her, right?" she said, unfolding her legs out in front of her as she made a tangent to the fire, "Or did you hit your head and forget everything?" His face deepened into a frown.

"Actually, that's just it. I don't even remember why I was at Tifa's house," he admitted, nervous scratching behind his ear, "It was almost like I blanked out, like my brain went into autopilot. Next thing I know, I'm covered in blood, Tifa's crying and Vincent looks like he's gonna murder me." He cringed a little at the word 'murder', eyes looking off in the distance, like he was trying to locate the memory on the horizon.

"Can I just say that's fucked up?" Yuffie replied, trying her best not to sound harsh. Luckily, he didn't interpret it that way. He was silent, but not brooding, which was a welcome relief from a few days ago. In fact, Yuffie was a little skeptical of his state of mind. Almost as if he had just let go of something.

_Is it that simple? Forgive, forget, move on... that never happens with **real** people. But maybe something close. Ya, that's it. Just forget._

"...Can I ask you a question?" he said after she had been thinking for some time. She got a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, but ignored it, swallowing her sudden nervousness.

"Ya, what?" she replied, eyes unblinking and head tilted to the side. Another smile from his direction more amused than happy.

"What made you decide to leave Wutai?" he asked, with a steady and rehearsed tone, like it had been rolling around in his head for days.

_So now you want stories? Fair enough, I guess. Everyone knows your life story, hard not to, with all that happened. Is this why you chose me to come along?_

"...I guess..." she began, and bit her lip, "...A purpose. You need something more than honor to live for. I guess that's what I learned, hangin' with you guys." She looked up into the sky, as it slowly faded to indigo, giving a silent prayer to whatever was listening. She never knew why she did, but it always seemed to help. If only for the sanity of her own small mind.

"Purpose," he savored the word, and his eyes lit up, "Not so different after all. But what did you find, that was better than honor?" She continued to look up, not daring to meet his gaze.

"...Maybe..." she sighed, her face slowly coming back towards the ground, "...Understanding. We're all just people, sittin around talkin and stuff. If ya find that, ya feel like ya mean something. The kind of stuff Tifa talks about but doesn't believe is returned. Maybe love, but I doubt that. Just a... connection." She felt extremely stupid, but played off her confidence anyway. He just stared at her, a blank but clearly thinking expression on his face.

_Oh gawd, I still sound like a child, don't I?_

"I get it," he replied, after a near eternity in her mind, "...Maybe I'll never quite have it, but I get what you're saying. Maybe honor is just one way to get there." She shook her head.

"Naw, honor isn't something that real," she mumbled, and then cleared her throat, "Deep thinkin like that never makes anything _happen_. Ya gotta act. Ya gotta... wake up."

_Wake up? That's real original. Where'd ya get that, a calendar?_

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he blurted out, and averted his eyes, "I don't think I ever told you that."

_He's sober, and saying this? Maybe I'm not so stupid after all..._

She looked over to the side of their little encampment, trying to find the best way to reply. She always took compliments with too much gusto, and desperately wanted to avoid that...

But something else caught her eye. It was large, and didn't smell too friendly...

"Uh, Cloud?" she said, gaping at the sight, "What the hell is _that_?!"

_Earlier..._

Things had settled down in the Home, once the children realized that Tifa was still a force to be reckoned with. Not that they feared her... it was more a matter of authority. Some saw her as a mother, some as an older sister, and maybe even just a caretaker... but they all knew her as The Adult. And that meant she made the rules. Some, like Rinna, may break them, but eventually they knew it would catch up with them.

So, when they saw her running about, frantically packing things, they were confused. But they stayed out of her way.

"You let them _go_?" she muttered to herself, a flustered Vincent following her as she dashed around the house.

"Tifa, they are fine and capable people," he pleaded with her; unpacking the things she was packing when she wasn't looking, "They can handle this."

"What if Cloud has another episode?" she replied, whipping around to look at him, "And Yuffie? She can't handle him!" He guiltily hid a sweater of hers behind his back. Luckily, she didn't notice.

"Tifa, is this really about that?" he asked, leaning down so he could be at her eye level, "Is it really their safety you are concerned about?"

_Why are you so concerned that I don't go after them? Don't you trust me? _

"Why are _you_ so opposed to this?" she countered, a technique she felt was transparent, but at the moment couldn't think of anything better. She expected he would stare and raise an eyebrow, an expression that meant so many things and nothing at all. But he wanted to keep surprising her.

"Is it not obvious?" he asked, gently pulling a shirt from her grasp, preventing more of her packing.

_Jealousy? I thought you were better than that. Better than me, in many ways._

"Why?" she breathed out, letting her hands fall to her sides, "What are you afraid of?" He was on the brink; she knew that any more and she would be pushing him too far.

"I do not want you around him," he said quietly, not looking at her, "I know what effect he has on you. Even if you have convinced yourself otherwise. And the effect you have on him is equally unhealthy." She blinked, the only indication that any of her was alive. A person walking by would have mistaken her for a mannequin, she was so still.

But her eyes had opened. And her memories were full, whole and in brilliantly harsh color. She _knew_. It had taken his little admission to do so, but she felt... lighter. Like a burden had been lifted.

"I'm the reason, aren't I?" she asked, barely a whisper, "It's my fault, that Cloud..."

_I created Surrender. I started the fractures. I caused all of this..._

"The mental image a person has of someone is heavily influenced by their perceptions," he replied, steadying her with a hand on her shoulder, "Do not blame yourself." She shook her head.

"No, I need to quit deluding myself," she said, clear but not steady, "I was a stupid child. Selfish and cruel. I _knew_ how everyone teased him. And I did nothing. I _knew_ about his past. And I said nothing. I'm a horrible person." He stared hard at her.

"You need to learn to take your own advice," he said, with a controlled forcefulness, "and let go of things you cannot control. If you were not around, Tiveph would not have chosen Cloud, that is true. But it is not _you_ who created his problems. That was him. _His _unrequited love for you, _his_ perceptions of you. Not you. And that is what Tiveph saw."

"Then what connection do I have? I know there's something more than what you're telling me," she replied, a confused look on her face, "Otherwise, why would Surrender have any hold on me?" He breathed deep and averted his eyes.

"I hoped you would not ask that question..." he breathed, like he was carrying something heavy on his back, "But maybe you are ready to know. I just hope I am not wrong." She settled her weight, relaxing the tense muscles in her body.

"Surrender is Cloud, and was born from his negative emotions. But," he continued, haltingly, "...but you are what keeps it alive. It is your connection-- mentally, emotionally-- to Cloud that allows his Emotive to exist. You are a reference point, somewhere to fixate all the negative and mixed feelings. And if you die, before Cloud does, in your current state, your soul will _become_ Surrender's final form. A twisted dream realized."

_So this is what Tiveph wanted. For me to be permanently connected with Cloud, so that his dream would be realized. Consumed. I think I understand now. _

"But what about Annihilation? Obsession?" she asked, head swimming. He frowned, stiffening his posture.

"Lucrecia was in the process of becoming Annihilation, and upon Sephiroth's true death was freed, I believe," he replied, continuing to avoid eye contact, "And Obsession... well..." He stopped, but not out of fear, like someone who did not know him would guess. He looked at her, as if asked her for the permission to continue. She nodded, and the unspoken exchange finished.

"If not for Tiveph's demise..." he muttered, each syllable pronounced carefully, "Then I would have become Obsession, upon death. Even though Hojo was essentially dead. But our connection has been severed, and Hojo is a free entity somewhere in Limbo." She knitted her brows, and then softened upon seeing his expression.

"How did your connection become severed?" she asked, dipping into comforting at seeing his distress, "Maybe we can find a way to sever mine." He frowned, a frown that consumed most of his face, contorting it in expression that Tifa had only seen Cloud use.

"Even after I had my revenge, and accounted for what I had done to Lucrecia," he began, his voice hushed, "I still could not let go of it. My hatred for Hojo and my love for her had not died. This further bound me to Hojo, though I did not know it. I wallowed in my own self pity and doubt. But..." He fixed his eyes carefully on her, and his mouth quirked up into a strange half smile.

"The moment I saw you, waking up from what I thought was death, and seeing you were alright..." he whispered, the same tone he had used to calm her, "I felt as if nothing else mattered. No revenge or guilt could compare to the immense relief of knowing you were alive and well. And for the first time, I _saw_ you. It was then that I let go, for I realized that I loved you."

_And I didn't notice. I thought you were afraid of another death on your conscience. _

"So I haven't let Cloud go, then," she replied, eyes opened wide and looking off into space, "I have to let him go..." She looked over at her open bag, and scowled at it.

"Maybe you have," he said quietly, the odd coloration of his eyes betraying hope, "But even if you haven't, I will not leave."

"No... I wasn't concerned about him," she replied thoughtfully, and bit her lip, "I'm more concerned about Yuffie. I'm so tired of worrying about Cloud; I have for some many damn years..." Vincent's expression lightened, although it was far from cheerful.

_I'm not holding onto Cloud... not even my memory of him. I don't quite know when, but I didn't feel it anymore. I'm not responsible for him; I can't keep living that way. I just hope Yuffie doesn't take that responsibility. It's his and his alone. But she won't get off so easy, not with him. My horrible jealousy from before, which held on so long... maybe it will let me go._

"...I think that it's better to fall with you," Tifa whispered, softly enough that no one else but him would hear, "...than to stand, holding him up."

_Selfish, Tifa. So selfish. But, so is Vincent. _

"I jumped to conclusions, I am sorry," he sheepishly said, "I should have trusted you more." She blinked.

"But Cloud still isn't right..." she murmured, and began fiddling with her hair, "...If it isn't Surrender now, what is it?" Vincent's eyes opened wide.

"If you're not connected..." he whispered, shaking his head, "no longer consumed...the Messenger... Where do you keep your copy of the Legend? I fear I may have made a grave error."

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AN: Action soon! Whoo-hoo! Maybe I'll finally be able to make a point... 

Theme songs: _Vow_ Garbage and _The District Sleeps Alone Tonight _The Postal Service


	20. Acciaccatura

AN: Well, here's some action. Now, action is not my forte. So my perspectives on things are a little... weird. But this signals the beginning of the end of this story. As in... I know how it ends. (gasp in horror!) I may change my mind a few times, but I have an idea. And thanks so much again for the support! Geez, nearly a hundred reviews... and for a sequel no less. Puts some pressure on me... but in a good way. Well, enjoy.

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**Chapter 20 – Acciaccatura**

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He didn't think that the evil he sought was also seeking him. Then again, such possibilities never did occur in his mind.

He'd forgotten just how ugly it had been, the slimy and deformed mockery of a woman. Now that he was looking at her again, she seemed even more worse for the wear. In fact, if he didn't already know it, he would be hard pressed to figure out that she was a female. Or a male even. She was just so distinctly...

Inhuman.

He also noticed how terribly cold outside it was, now that the sun was set and he was standing away from the fire. He didn't even know Winter had started...

_Focus. Stop worrying about trivial things like the weather. Fight monster first. Think later._

It was Yuffie who struck the first blow. So impulsive, and with such a survival instinct. He would have cursed at her if he didn't already know that the monster before them had a deep set hatred against them, and would give them no chance to defend themselves. He was almost disappointed that his instincts were not timed so well. He hadn't trained hard in some time; luckily, his baser self was born to be a fighter.

One slimy tentacle whipped in front of his face, and his sword was soon in his hands, the upper muscles of his arms screaming with the strain. He'd forgotten how satisfying it was to fight something other than himself, and as he felt steel connect with pseudo organic flesh, every one of his senses sharpened and tingled...

"To your left!" Yuffie screeched at him, as another tenacle came towards him. She may not have been the strongest physical fighter, but she was quick, and that proved a boon to him many times. If only he had another person too... he'd take Vincent or Tifa any day...

_But they aren't here. This is **your** fight. _

Her shuriken whizzed by his ear, throwing him off guard for a moment. Some part of that ugly thing that is Jenova must have been closer than he anticipated. And his sight was becoming more reddish, as his eyes adjusted to the falling darkness...

_Slice, lunge, step back, lunge again, avoid that damn tentacle, watch for the goo, slice, stab..._

His thoughts were wild repetition and training. He was a machine, like so many had accused him of being. And he was loving it. There was no need to think, no need to grieve, no need to care or love or exist...

Yuffie glanced over at him strangely, the chance times she could see him between dodging and throwing. He didn't see her worried expression, didn't see the selfless fear in her eyes. She had told him something...

'_...I'm too young to die...'_

He had to protect her. The mechanics of his body was fighting the ethereal steel of his mind. Why were his shots deflecting Jenova's attacks in her direction? Why wasn't he wounding that horrendous monster more? Was he even trying?

_**Why would you kill the Messenger? Don't you want to know what she has for you....?**_

"Cloud!" Yuffie shouted, jumping up to catch her shuriken, "What the hell in going on?!" And that was all the acknowledgement he needed, with the strained but not entirely frightened tone of her voice. He glanced over, just in time to see one of the monster's tentacles, one that had grown something sharp, rear up to impale her.

"Yuffie! Move!" he shouted, but his legs were already moving, and he saw that she was half a second too slow...

Screeeech! The metal of his sword met the wholly inorganic spike that would have been lodged in Yuffie's chest. She stared at odd cross of monster and man, and then came to her senses. With a grit of her teeth, she sent her shuriken right for that arm that held the spike, cutting it cleanly.

And the monster howled, a sound that reverberated in the landscape and in his mind...

_**Pain, Cloud Strife. Is that what you fear? No, a warrior would not fear pain...**_

With a small cry, Yuffie clapped her hands over her ears, and fell to her knees.

_**...Perhaps, loss? Guilt... for I will be the judge of you...**_

She shut her eyes tightly, and strangely enough, the gnarled fingerlike tenacles of Jenova did not reach out to crush and tear at her. But somehow, he was more troubled seeing the state she was in, hunched over and holding back the tears like a child...

"Stop it! Leave her alone!" he shouted at the creature, charging at her full force. Though he could not distinguish any particular face, he thought he could see her snarl, an arrogant and self pleasing expression...

_**Did you never consider that I was a part of you too?**_

"I DON'T CARE!" he screeched, homicidally stabbing at it, flinging foul liquid and slime all over the place, "You can't have her too!" He hacked away blindly at it, his rage taking over his judgment.

_**Detach yourself from this human frivolty. You have transceded such sentimental notions... when you are judged, you must be judged cleanly, free of all that hinders you...**_

And he stared at it, at _her_, this monster he thought was something entirely alien and horrific and evil...

And he saw _her_ face. All dark Wutain eyes, and dark hair tinged with green...

The sword clattered to the ground, as Cloud fell to his knees. Evil was supposed to be ugly, and horrible, and alien...

_Why does she look like **her**? Is this some sort of trick?_

"Cloud!"

He blinked, and she was still there. Staring at him with eyes that should have been kind and mischievious. Snarling with lips that should have been smiling. But even if she was totally wrong, corrupted as such... he couldn't attack her. He'd lost his will to fight it.

"What do you want?" he screamed at her, forgetting that Yuffie was next to him, waving her hands to get his attention.

"Cloud! It's me, Yuffie! Pick up your sword!"

_What do you want?_

**_My justice, Cloud Strife. Though it will probably mean your destruction._**

"Cloud! Dammit Cloud! I'll kill it myself!"

_As long as you leave her alone. I will do as you ask._

"Ah! It's ALIVE!"

_**Of course.**_

But she was destracted from fighting the newly animated monstrosity, for Cloud fell forward, as if dead.

"Cloud!" she screeched, nearly dropping her shuriken in the process, "What the hell did you do, you fucking alien freak?!"

"I know you too, Yuffie Kisargi," it spoke, a voice of acid and honey, like poison sweetened to taste, "Would you succumb to my judgement?"

"Like hell I would! Give Cloud back!" she replied, wished it had a face she could spit at. She gripped her shuriken tighter, ready to find the right soft spot to lodge it into. She was steeling her arm, ready to let Jenova have all that she was made of. For when Yuffie decided that something was worth all the trouble to save, she was going to destroy whatever threatened it.

But then there was a gunshot. She knew that gunshot.

"...Yuffie?"

_Elsewhere, Earlier..._

He had begun to doubt whose interests he had taken to heart when he decided to keep most of his research to himself. Judging solely from the expressions of her face, as her eyes scanned through the page he had handed her... she was worried.

_But about who? That's what troubles you, isn't it, Valentine?_

His research into matters were far from extensive, as it was already becoming evident that he may have made a mistake. Translation was such a long and hard process at times, for Tiveph fancied himself smart, which meant he used technical jargon and complex sentence structure. And that was just for his journal. He couldn't imagine what his technical notes looked like. No scientist anytime soon would decipher _that_ mess.

Which was a relief in itself. From what he knew now, he had lost any faith in science that he may have had left.

Tiveph's notes about Jenova, or Ayin as he preferred to call her, were no real help. For such a scientific Cetra, he was freakishly idealistic about her.

_You thought if you let her choose, then her attachment to Cloud would wane. That was all you were worried about, wasn't it?_

Vincent had simply told her enough to keep her from going completely crazy. He assessed the situation a certain way, and he knew if she and Cloud dug further into their predicament, they would only further their "connection". Cloud would slip further into his schizoprenic delusions, and Tifa...

He didn't want to imagine what would have happened to her. He had to hold onto this little bit of a hopeful attitude. Pessimism wouldn't do any good.

"...Vincent?" Tifa asked, looking up from the paper, "...Why?" She wasn't on the edge of crying, like he'd almost become used to. She had a steely resolve hidden in the depths of her face, pooling into eyes that looked almost bloody for the moment.

"Because I believe people should make their own redemption," Vincent replied, no quite knowing what he was saying, "_They _have to figure out what they're living for. No one can choose that for them."

_No, Tifa, you are not my redemption. You are my life._

"I just want to be forgiven," she replied, looking down at the table, "...We're not going to save him. But we do owe Cloud and Yuffie our support. I can't help but feel..."

"That there is a great evil heading straight for them," he finished, and she looked up, smiling a quick smile at him. Then she frowned.

"...No...it's" she stuttered, and then started flipping through the pages of her book frantically, "...Already here." She found the page, and handed it to him silently.

"_The old prophesies and hearsay of troubled men were broken,_

_For they sought answers in the dark, in fields, in the open,_

_Years after the terrible battle waged, and the Angel fell,_

_Their minds had forgotten the meaning of Heaven or Hell._

_But the Messenger still lives, hidden in their minds,_

_Year after year, a circle unbroken, where the warrior finds,_

_That which betrays, leaves a shallow wound,_

_Yet he should be wary, lest his ignorance be his tomb._

_For to forget is one tool, the Messenger uses_

_To bring about the destruction, of whoever she chooses."_

"Do you think...?" he asked, looking up from what he read. She shook her head.

"All that poetic dribble," she replied, smirking a little, "I never really understood it. But you said something about a Messenger, and I remembered reading that passage once." He sat still for a moment, collecting his thoughts.

_To forget... if only I knew the other meaning of that..._

"Vincent, if there's something you know that would help," she spoke, a gentle forcefulness in her tone, "Then please tell me. If not, we should get going."

"We?" he asked, pulling his eyes from the book, "What do you mean?" She flashed him a terribly endearing smile.

"I'm not going to look for them alone," she replied, letting her fingertips brush his cheek, "I need you to be with me. Wouldn't want to you think that I'm leaving you."

_You know me better than I know myself... clever girl. _

He could see that she was surprised, as he smiled broadly at her. This quickly faded at he pulled her out of her chair, setting her on his lap. Now there was a slight embarrassment, coloring her cheeks with a rosy red.

"I would have it that we never have to part," he whispered in her ear, "Lest death consume either of us." She leaned her head on his shoulder, fitting nicely at the side of his neck.

"I'd like that," she replied, talking towards his collarbone, "But if either of us dies..."

"Then I will wait," he answered, and shifted their positions, "...We can talk about this later. We should get going now." He started to let her slid off, in an attempt to stand up. But her arms suddenly grasped his neck, prompting him to stay for a few more moments.

"I will wait too," she whispered, as she moved so that her face was right in front of his, "...But be careful." He felt that he was still grinning madly at her, he could never tell when he stopped anymore. Her presence begged him to smile, once in a while.

_You be careful too. I never said how long I would wait..._

And with that, she kissed him, and they stopped worrying for the all too short moment it lasted.

When they got up to make the necessary arrangements to leave, they were focused, determined. They didn't notice the little shadow of a girl that had been standing in the hallway, listening and watching their brief interlude before they launched headlong into their mission.

The little girl who was silently crying as she watched Vincent pass by.

"I'm not losing my family again," she whispered in the soft and inaudible manner that was common for her. She then turned on her heel, slinking carefully back towards the children's room.

"You won't even notice me, I'll follow you so quietly..."

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Theme Songs: _Touch _Vast, _Thinking of You _A Perfect Circle, _Bury Me _Val Emmich and _J-E-N-O-V-A _The Black Mages (that's an obvious song, if ever I've seen one...) 

AN: So now you kinda know why Vincent's been keeping things to himself. And what the "thing" is. I've gotten to the entire reason I started these two crazy stories in the first place: Jenova. If there was something you didn't catch... don't worry. I write so that it can be interpreted in a number of ways. So if you really feel one way, then stay with it.

My muse is going crazy. Check out Chorophobia to see what I mean!


	21. Segno

AN: Mind trippage here. Beware. And yes, I'm being vague for a purpose. I want you to make your own conclusions, although some will be obvious more than others. Thanks again for all who have been reading. If you've been reading along and haven't reviewed yet, that's fine. Just leave me a review at the end of the story, just to let me know you read it. I'm curious to know who's been following this story, that's all.

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**Chapter 21 – Segno**

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She never could handle seeing him fall. Even in the old days, when it was merely an infatuation for her. Cloud was never supposed to fall, in her mind, he was invincible; he was strong and so fucking beautiful...

Even now, when she knew that he was no more invincible than she was. She wanted to believe that nothing would ever harm him, because she couldn't deal with him being harmed. It hurt, worse than any injury or harm that had ever come to her. But she wouldn't give up because he had fallen in battle. She would kill that monstrous bitch.

And now, she wouldn't have to do it alone.

"What happened?!" Tifa's slightly hysterical voice broke faintly through the thickening darkness. The sound of metallic boots and as well as the smell of gun smoke alerted her to Vincent's presence.

_Thank Leviathan. Vincent came to his senses. _

"Watch out! It's Jenova!" Yuffie replied, flinging her weapon at the creature, which had been still while it messed with their minds, and was now animated with a new hatred.

Or was it hatred?

She shook off her thoughts with another shot of Vincent's rifle. They were getting closer, and her adrenaline was coursing violently through her veins. Another throw of the shuriken, this time hitting something that pained the monster. It screeched its displeasure.

_Damn, I missed this shit. Fighting and all that. And now my friends have come to help. If only Cloud were alright, then this would be a good time..._

"...Yuffie?"

She heard the voice again, and was convinced that it wasn't in her head. It was hard to tell sometimes, but hearing the same thing twice was usually an indication that it was real. Or at least it could be real. Her instincts told her to check on Cloud.

He was standing right next to her, his otherworldly eyes glowing in the darkness.

_Gawd you're beautiful._

She felt his hand on her arm, which held the shuriken she had just caught. With a light pressure he lowered it from its aggressive stance, taking away some of her defense in the process.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, staring down that glow that made her want to hold onto him. But she had survival instincts that told her something bad would happen if she let her guard down.

"Just trust me," he whispered, his gaze winning over her defiant one, "Close your eyes."

"What?!" she screeched, trying to pull away from him.

"Close your eyes," he said, more insistently. And for once she complied.

That last thing she could feel from her senses was the desperate pressing of his lips against hers. Then there was no smell, no taste, no sound...

Not even the beating of her own heart.

_Meanwhile..._

It was she who had followed Vincent, with his skill in tracking and his strange eyes. One swift chocobo had carried them here, the place she had needed to be. What all her senses had been screaming for her to do. She wanted to help them; she wanted to... atone, maybe. And what a cruel thing atonement really was.

_We're too late. They're gone._

She stared down at the bodies of her friends, the shock keeping her body from moving, where she knelt beside them. Someone had told her that people look peaceful in death. But from the determinedly frightened expression left on Yuffie's young face, and the pained one on Cloud's... that person was wrong.

A gunshot. So the monster was still alive. She had to avenge them, once she had proof of their passing. Some little part of her mind was begging her to check their pulses. Some part of her didn't want to let go just yet.

Another shot. She looked up, and caught the fierce glow in Vincent's eyes. If Tiveph hadn't fought them, he would be transforming about now. He looked angry enough. Frightening, if she didn't know him. But even in this state, she didn't fear him...

_Focus, Tifa. Check them quickly and go help him._

Her shaky hand met Yuffie's neck. For a couple of seemingly long moments, she held it there, unable to feel anything beyond the trembling of her fingers. She had resigned to go and check on Cloud, but then she felt it.

A heartbeat. Seems Yuffie hadn't given up yet.

Almost giddy, she placed her fingers on Cloud's neck, her hand steadying itself with the extra adrenaline in her body. For a couple of agonizing moments, she thought he might be gone...

But he didn't give up either.

So they were alive. She could have been happy with just that thought. But so was...

Jenova. Right, that thing was Jenova. Or a piece of her, at least.

She tightened her gloves, and hoped that running after children and Yuffie was training enough for what she needed to do. And she needed to kill Jenova. That damn alien just wouldn't die, it seemed...

_I hope they wake up alright._

"Vincent! Cover me!" she shouted as she ran straight for Jenova, at full speed.

Her boot made a sickening squish as it came into contact with the creature. She held back her revulsion with her anger. For this made her angrier than Sephiroth, after all the times she had come into contact with him. For he was at least _human_. This... was simply cruelty.

Her fists were flying wildly in front of her, without any real direction, her heart beating so fast. It felt so good, fighting evil, defending her friends. She didn't have to worry about have glances or guilt or anything as she fought, just the euphoric strain of her muscles as they came into contact with all that opposed them. For she would defend them until her death.

_And he will wait for me, although I'd rather live after this. I hope Cloud and Yuffie appreciate what I may be giving up..._

She didn't notice it right away, how the creature didn't attack her outright. Or that Vincent was shouting something at her. All she could hear was the pounding of her blood in her ears, the sounds of a well planted kick or a powerful punch...

"Miss Tifa!" a tiny voice made its way to her ears. She knew that voice, and a part of her panicked.

_Audrey?!_

"Audrey, don't!" Vincent's strained voice broke through the silence her mind had created. She had detached herself from everyone, to defend, to fight, and she may have just put someone's life at stake...

"Audrey! Don't come any closer!" she shouted, turning as she delivered a kick. She could see the girl now, as she was running straight towards her, with Vincent covering her from behind. She had a strange glow about her, like the darkness was lighting itself...

"I have to!" the girl shouted back, "You can't leave us! Miss Tifa, don't do this!"

Vincent had caught up to the girl now, and he grabbed her from behind, lifting her off the ground. She wriggled in his arms, muttering something incomprehensible. Then the girl's eyes grew wide, and Tifa turned around to see what she was gaping at...

Audrey's whisper flooded all of her senses.

"Wake up."

She felt the most agonizing pain sear through her head and her world turned black.

_Meanwhile, back with Yuffie..._

"Am I dead?" she asked, and was surprised to discover she still had a voice. That also meant she still had her sense of hearing. And when she opened her eyes...

Sight.

She was no longer outside, in the darkness. In fact, this place was overly bright, as it hurt her eyes. If she still did have eyes. It was empty, and so white. Clean and pure and it hurt so much to look at it. The real world wasn't so clean. She had to be dead. The real world was dirty but fresh, and she could smell it. She couldn't smell hear. She had to be dead...

"No, you're not dead," a woman's voice spoke. Not the harsh perversion of a woman's voice she had expected, but the fresh girlish one of someone familiar...

"Aeris?" she asked, turning fully around. It seemed she had a little control over her perceptions. But this couldn't be her body, as she was deprived of some of her senses.

_What a fucking mind trip._

"So you haven't forgotten me," the voice continued, the pink assaulting Yuffie's vision. If this were the real world, she would have blinked.

"Where am I?" Yuffie asked, putting her hands on her hips, though she could not feel it. She had given up on trying to understand how it all worked. She just assumed that something allowed her mannerisms to show through. Maybe it was a mental projection of herself. Maybe she was a ghost. Things like that were hard to tell.

"Cloud has invited you into his mind," what appeared to be Aeris replied, smiling for a moment before continuing, "I am all that is good in him."

_Figures._

"Why's his mind so damn bright?" she asked annoyed, shielding her eyes with her hand. Aeris giggled.

"No time to explain," she finally said, a sobering expression passing through her endlessly green eyes, "You need to help him. To help him fight." Aeris bit her lip, and let her eyes turn toward her feet. Even though she wasn't _really_ her, Yuffie felt a pang of guilt. Just seeing her image... how could she have even thought that she hated her? For she held onto her so long, with those little orbs of materia as a reminder. In some ways, she was worse than Cloud in that respect.

She held unto Aeris like she held onto innocence. Both had slid away from her.

_So if she's the good in him, what does that make me?_

"You still don't know, do you?" Aeris replied, seemingly reading her thoughts. Yuffie frowned, but lightened as Aeris gave her a knowing smile.

"What do I need to do? What am I fighting?" she asked, impatient to kill whatever it was she needed to. Aeris shook her head.

"You need to fight the evil inside them all," she whispered, a breathy feminine sound that made Yuffie almost want to cry, "For you have defeated the evil inside of you, even if you don't know it." Now it was Yuffie's turn to shake her head.

"What? If you're part of Cloud's mind..." she said thoughtfully, "how do you know all this?" Aeris smiled, a different one than Yuffie was used to. For it held a deep sadness, a sadness she saw in Cloud's face.

"Everyone has the answers to their own salvation," she replied, staring hard into Yuffie's eyes, "They just need a guide."

_Alright... but what does that make me?_

"You are his hope, Yuffie," she said, holding her chin up like a marbled statue, "You are his will to survive. Go now, for evil draws nearer, with a captive, no less." And with the blink of an eye, she was gone.

"...I'm sorry, Aeris," Yuffie whispered, after she was gone, "I don't think I ever forgave you for leaving us."

And she ran, she instinctively ran towards the evil she felt. For she could feel it now, a slimy foreign thing in this pure and sterile world.

_You can't have him too, you alien freak._

_Meanwhile, with Tifa..._

Tifa woke in a world of darkness. She expected to feel hurt, but instead her senses were numb. The last time she had felt so cut off from reality...

_No! I don't want to die yet!_

She may have been in Limbo, but she knew that Limbo still held shadows of the real world. This was far too dark, she was far too alone. Maybe this was what Hell was supposed to be like, if it had ever existed. Dark, lonely, frightening place. Maybe this was what the Lifestream was like if you were dead.

And she wasn't ready to die yet. Oh, she wasn't ready to die.

**_You pathetic beings cling to life as if it were precious. Holding onto those bodies which only hinder you. Do you not see what the mind is capable of without its physical hindrances?_**

"W-what?" she replied, uncomfortable with the strange voice projected around her. It seemed to echo off of invisible walls and ceiling. There had to be a floor, she was standing on it... but she couldn't feel it. It was a strange world indeed.

A pinhole of violet light broke through the darkness, illuminating a figure both terrible and beautiful. A woman who resembled a person she'd only heard of from dreams.

"Lucrecia?" she whispered, the name leaving a bad taste in her mouth. The figure smiled.

_**So he's told you about me. Seems I haven't been forgotten after all.**_

"But all of this..." Tifa said quietly, staring at the woman disbelievingly, "...wasn't Jenova?" The woman shook her head, tousling the brown curls of her hair.

_**I am Jenova. Just as you are Jenova. And he is Jenova.**_

Tifa pursed her lips, and absently placed her hands on her hips.

_I don't understand... isn't Jenova an alien? Something foreign? How can we be it?_

_**Clearly you haven't been doing your reading. Your lack of intelligence makes me wonder for his sanity. Have you no sense for research? For discovery?**_

Tifa shook her head. She didn't understand how Vincent could have placed this woman on so high a pedestal, made her the object of perfection. But then again, she had done so with Cloud. And this woman was so magnetic, even as a spectre. She could see all her faults reflected in her green eyes, making her feel unworthy.

"_Thou whilst refrain from taking the life of another  
For that heinous crime of Eelsa to her brother  
Brought the Messenger upon us, from the skies  
And the hoard of other plagues, the lies_

_Trust not the woman, whose smile is sweet  
Trust not your own hands, or feet  
Your body betrays, your mind is unclear  
Harden your heart and do not fear"_

"What?" she whispered, after the words assaulted her mind. She didn't know if she had summoned them, or if Lucrecia had projected it into her mind. But it didn't matter; she never understood the words anyway. They were cold, inhuman projections of the world. Her wisdom was a warm and alive thing; nothing that science or magic could replicate. But something became very clear to her, like a child walking through the darkness.

It was Yuffie.

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AN: Alright, before someone yells at me, I'd like to say this: No, I don't think Lucrecia is evil. Misguided maybe, but not evil. I needed something to represent a cold intelligence, and she fit the bill. Ok? And sorry if this seems a little short. I needed to get to the guys' perspective for the next bit. Hope I haven't confused you too much. Just remember... I'm a philosopher and a scientist. Messed up more than you would believe. 

Oh, and Audrey is special. Very special. Not "save everybody and be cool" special, but special.

Theme Songs: _Sora's Folktale _Maaya Sakamoto (Escaflowne), _Sweet Surrender _Sarah McLachlan, and _In the End_ Linkin Park


	22. Opus de Valentine et Strife

AN: Well, this could or could not be the last "chapter" chapter. I have an epilogue planned, which should tie up any loose ends I have. (sobs) I can't believe it's ending. I've rather enjoyed writing this crazy little story. Thanks to you who have been loyal. Just remember, leave a review for the epilogue at least, even if all it says is "hi". I got rather poetic in this chapter, I apologize in advance.

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**Chapter 22 – Opus de Valentine et Strife**

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His world was filled with fractured mirrors. No matter where he turned, he saw fragments of himself, laughing, crying, smiling, glaring... a kaleidoscope of faces that caused him great unease.

Cloud was lost again. But he knew what he was looking for. He knew what hope was.

"Yuffie! Where are you?!" he shouted, causing the mirrors to vibrate and shake, and he marveled for a moment at the strength of his cry.

_She's here, I know she is. I have to find her, I have to protect her._

The faces were numerous shapes and sizes. Some were strangers, like the beautiful brown haired woman on his right, and older man with silver hair and green eyes at his lower left. And some were familiar. Like Aeris, who was smiling at him, and Yuffie, who had a worried and frantic look on her face. Then his eyes fell on Tifa's face, whose mouth was open like she was shouting, the ever present tears streaming down her face.

As he moved in this cell of glass, the faces fractured themselves, pieces of each creating new faces. Crimson eyes overlapped the gentle face that he knew was his mother, and green ones overtook the pale thin and serious face of Vincent. Blond hair exchanged with black, brown with red, like a child's drawing thrown into a lake.

There were no more images now, only colors, like stained glass.

"Cloud, I'm sorry!"

He never told Tifa that he'd forgiven her. That any malice in him was reserved for Jenova, for anything that threatened to harm his hope. A hope that he wanted to find.

He ran at the glass, shattering it into oblivion. He didn't feel any splinters, and if he did, he wouldn't have cared. He had to tell her. She was calling him.

_**I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry...**_

He kept running, through darkness, through light, through shadow... each compartments of his own mind. The ground was unsteady, if it was a ground at all. But he ran, so hard until something stopped him.

It was a cliff. Some bottomless void hidden in the back of his brain. That which scared him the most about himself.

And he was going to jump.

He backed up a few steps, and tightened his fists. Then he ran at it, until he could feel that strange weightless sensation... for he was falling. But for once, he was not lost. He was giddy in his sense of purpose, though a purpose he had never consider. He wasn't fighting evil...

He was surrendering to it.

"Come out!" he shouted as he fell, "Give them back!"

_**I thought you'd never ask.**_

"I don't want to be the hero!" he continued shouting, as if he were the last man on earth, "I just want them back!"

He jerked for a moment, and realized he was no longer falling, but suspended in the void. There was a hand; he could see it, holding desperately onto his own. A woman's hand slightly gnarled with whitish scars.

His eyes traveled up the arm, to the face...

It was Tifa. And she was smiling at him.

"I'm so sorry Cloud," she whispered, pulling him into a world of colors that didn't stay in one hue for long. He shook his head.

"No, don't worry," he replied, eyes looking down at his feet, "I forgive you. I forgive you, Tifa." She hugged him, crushing him with her relief. The air held a yellow pigment, sunny like high noon.

"Then you can find her," she whispered in his ear, "For you are fully freed of your regret." He frowned, thinking for a moment. The yellow darkened to amber, a cold warmth locked into a haze the enveloped them.

_Then you aren't Tifa at all... you're like Aeris. Are you my regret?_

"Thank you for letting go," he breathed, giving her a squeeze before separating, "It made it easier to let you go." She smiled and nudged him. Amber deepened to crimson, like wine and stolen berries from the near forgotten summer days. It draped around them like silk, blowing freely in a breeze.

"Go," she said cheerfully, "Find her."

And he began running again, catching one last glimpse of her, as she waved her goodbye to him. She was surrounded by the brightest violet he had ever seen, electrifying his mental image to go faster, to run harder... And she faded into it, like an indigo memory.

_My mind is a cluster of metaphors. Damn mess, but I see that now. I'm coming Yuffie, I'm coming..._

_**You think I'd make it that easy?**_

"Stop it! I'm not listening to you anymore!" he shouted, passing through a substance that looked like water. It slowed him, though he could not feel it. He flailed his limbs, fighting it with every step.

_**You still think that I'm alien, foreign to you humans. That I was something that fell to this planet, an evil bent on your destruction?**_

"Jenova?" he asked, letting his mind slow down, and what appeared to be his body speed up. He heard the echo of a laugh; a hollow sound that made him wish he could shiver.

_**I appear as you want me to appear. You thought I would be a monster, I was a monster.**_

An image of Jenova as he knew it appeared in the rippling matter before him. The tenacled monster shimmering in the waves, looking the perfect part in his mind.

_**I can be a woman, a man, your lover, your enemy... I am what you want to see.**_

The beautiful woman he didn't recognize appeared and faded, transforming into Vincent. His usual stern expression lifted into a smile, and he could see Yuffie...

But before he could reach out to her, he saw Sephiroth.

_**This makes it easier for you to hate me, doesn't it?**_

"I have to find her!" he exclaimed, struggling to run. He realized that he wasn't moving forward, but staying in place. He was caught on something, it appeared he had not let go of everything yet.

_**You are an unusual being, Cloud Strife. Full of contradictions and misgivings. Passionate and apathetic. Aggressive and gentle. And so close to being whole...**_

"Where _is_ she?" he hissed, slowing down a little, "Get out of my way!"

**_Not until you admit it. Not until you see. Tell me who I am._**

"What?" he replied, stopping all his movements. The figure that looked like Sephiroth leaned forward, with a snarl in its lip. Taunting him. Provoking him.

'_...I'm too young to die...'_

'_**I'm so sorry, Cloud'**_

'_You must cleanse yourself of the evil inside you'_

'**_You are not evil, Cloud. Nor are you perfect, just as I was in life'_**

'_I'm here, Cloud. You don't have to find me anymore.'_

"You are something I no longer fear," he replied, seeing a look of surprise in the eerie green eyes, "You have no power over me."

The image shattered, just like the mirrors, and he could move now. He wasn't running now to search, he wasn't running to flee. He had found. He had found her.

Their fingers brushed before they were consumed in the brightest light he had ever seen, blinding him in the process. He closed his eyes, and began to feel. Her hair tangled in his fingers, her face on his chest. His other arm clasped around her shoulders, which were shaking uncontrollably.

"Yuffie," he whispered, relieved that he could feel once again, "I think I love you."

_Earlier..._

"Tifa!" he shouted, loosening his grip on Audrey enough that she launched out of his arms. He ran after her, ran towards Tifa... he didn't want to waste any moments. His very life was slipping away from him, and he'd be damned to let that happen again.

_I said I would save you, Tifa. I meant it._

The glow around Audrey grew brighter as she got closer to Tifa's crumpled form. An energy that he'd only seen from materia gathered around her small form. Then she turned back for a moment to look at him.

Her eyes were a glowing violet, so different from what he knew. They were almost frightening.

"See," she whispered, a whisper that echoed in his mind, "See what is real."

There was no monster. They had been fighting an illusion. The real battle was not on the ground, but somewhere else, somewhere more real than the senses lead them to believe.

Jenova wasn't real at all. Not in the sense they were.

He had almost reached her; he couldn't have been as far away as he thought, as it seemed to him. A few feet had become miles and she was slipping, slipping into a darkness that overtook the ground.

"Hurry!" Audrey's whisper flooded his senses, he had lost touch and smell, the feel of the ground and the stench of gun smoke had faded into the sight and sound. There was laughter, there was his pulse, and there was the forgotten sound of a metal hand he had lost some time ago.

His sight was so startlingly clear now, like he'd never really looked at anything before.

_A girl, with the pale hair of a Cetra and the electrifying blue eyes of a human stood over the crumpled form of a younger boy. His eyes were popped wide open, revealing the same startling blue. His light clothes were marred in ugly splotches of red, and she held a piece of glass with trembling fingers, covered with its own crimson..._

_She cried, lifting her head to the sky, her body shaking with the exertion in her voice._

'_Gaia, may we all live to know such pain!'_

_Once uttered, her tremors stopped, and she clasped her hand to her mouth, eyes wide with terror. For a star was falling, a bright and beautiful streak in the sky..._

He couldn't see her now, and he feared the darkness may have taken her. Then he saw a warm indigo light, just to his left guiding him to a door, hanging in the middle of nowhere.

As he approached it, much to his horror, his left hand was once again a claw. He gripped the rusted knob of the door with this appendage, hearing the screech of metal against metal.

_**I was born of the tears of spite. I was the curse uttered from faded innocence.**_

"Tifa!" he called, peeking his head into a room suffused with sounds. It was like a hundred different orchestras were playing at once, but with different music. Somehow it sounded right; a loud and complicated polyphony. It seemed alive, like it would carry him across an ocean of stars. His sight hadn't quite caught up to his ears, and we he focused, he only saw one thing.

A chair, with a woman seated in it, her back facing him. Her long brown hair flowed down it, allowing him to identify her.

"Tifa!" he called to her, as he crossed the room to meet her. She turned her head to face him, and he anticipated those warm burgundy eyes of hers; he imagined the surprise they would hold.

But they were green, an impossible green a person only finds after the Winter ends, when the Spring first shows her face.

_**You have eluded me, Vincent Valentine. Congratulations, your soul is at peace.**_

"Where is Tifa?" he demanded, a tone that he was beginning to dislike from his voice.

_**You can't possibly have it all, can you? Isn't redemption enough?**_

"No," he replied, grinding the fingers of his claw into his palm, "It cannot be enough. I want hers too."

The sounds of stringed instruments had taken dominance over the sound, fretting and plucking away with anxious tones. Sounds that would wear the nerves of any decent person, and drive them to madness.

_I will not let her fade. I failed once, I will not fail again._

"Vincent, I'm sorry," her whisper permeated past, quieting the chaotic music, "I wanted to be there, to find you after this was all over. I wanted to live, because I wanted to live for you. I wanted to live for the children. I even wanted to live for Cloud, so I could see him at peace."

_**Foolish thoughts from a foolish girl. She is redeemed, but not worthy to live such a life.**_

"Who are you to choose?" he choked out, grasping the shoulders of the figure tightly, "What right have you?" She smirked, letting her eyes fade to burgundy.

**_I am how you want to see me. I am pain. I am judgment. I am the Messenger of Gaia._**

"But what does that mean?" he added with a shake to the figure, despite its growing resemblance to Tifa, "Where did you come from? Why are you here?"

_**Every light has a dark. **_

_The bloodied shard of glass fell from the girl's hand. She fell on her knees, and wept over her brother's body._

**_If it is in this planet, Gaia, that you see good, then I am its antithesis._**

_The shadow of a woman fell over the girl; block the sun from her view. The girl looked up, staring in awe at the woman before her._

_**But we are not separate, just like your mind.**_

_The woman held out her hand, and the girl slowly took it._

'_Come child, I will grant your request.'_

_**Are you certain this is what you need?**_

It was Tifa's face, asking him, her eyes pleading with him. That gentle glow that they emanated when she whispered, when was close to him.

"You may not see it," he whispered, lulling the music to a gentle hum, "but she is infused with life. Even after so much sorrow." She smiled, a warm and full smile, one that she'd dazzled people with for years.

"Thank you, Vincent," Tifa whispered, as the room around them fell away, into silence and darkness.

And they were falling, inches apart, grasping for each other.

_Will you fall with me?_

_**Will you live for me?**_

_No, I will live with you._

_**Then I will fall for you.**_

"...Vincent? Is Audrey safe?"

"Yes, she's safe."

"And you?"

"Still falling."

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AN: I told you Audrey was special. And the violet eyes thingy was a little joke, sorta. I'll let you figure out where you've seen that before. She's narrarating the epilogue, so her oddness will be explained a little. Gosh, I hope I didn't get too mushy... I'm afraid of that. Oh well, I'll just have to live with that.

Theme songs: _Gravity of Love _Enigma, _Blue_ Vast, _The Conception_ ATLUS (Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne Soundtrack), and _Lateralus _Tool


	23. Epilogue Operetta

AN: This is it, folks! Thank you for reading this crazy story!

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**Epilogue – Operetta**

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She was nibbling on her pencil again, a habit she'd never be able to be rid of. At least no one noticed her nasty habits in the corner, where she watched them all. Audrey always watched, writing her little observations in her faded green notebook, something Tifa had picked up for her one day.

Things had settled down, as much as they ever would. Kale still ran around the house like a hoodlum, spending more time in trouble than out of it. She figured he preferred it that way. Samiel had finally come to join them again, as Miss Shera finally allowed him to return. He was half polite and half boisterous, she supposed that was as good as most boys would ever get.

Some things had certainly changed, though. For the better for the worse; probably a little of both. Vincent had officially moved into the Home, occasionally taking trips to Rocket Town and Cosmo Canyon, when his natural restlessness took over. They didn't see Cloud or Yuffie after that day, but Yuffie called often checking up on Tifa and asking about Rinna. They were somewhere warm, she'd remembered, where Cloud apparently had a villa of some sort. Tifa had told her that they needed a rest, that they weren't lost... but they weren't quite ready to begin a real life. Audrey was glad that Cloud didn't come by anymore, the few times she had seen him, she had been frightened by him. Her senses tingled with a feeling that all was not right with him. Though, she supposed, he probably wouldn't give her that feeling anymore.

She'd almost forgotten about her premonitions. She didn't have nearly as many anymore, and she could convince herself that she was normal. But Vincent always told her that it was alright that she wasn't normal. Maybe she should follow his advice.

_I've only had it get out of hand twice in my life. When Meteor happened, and when Jenova tried to destroy my new family. _

She shook her head. Now she was supposed to go back to observing other people, not herself. She gave a quick glare to her chewed up pencil before placing its lead delicately against the paper.

"_We always bounce back. No matter what life seems to throw at us, we still manage to get along just fine. Miss Tifa still tells stories, but they don't seem so far-fetched anymore. And Mr. Vincent doesn't always hide in the corner. Usually you can find him reading to her, explaining that worn old book she found a while ago. I don't write then, usually, because the words are so beautiful. Poetry, I think they call it. Maybe that's what I'll write someday, to thank them."_

She looked up, and smiled, for they were just sitting down on the couch, faded blue book in Tifa's hand. She was grinning at him now, dangling the book in front of his red eyes, taunting him in a silly childish way. He pretended not to notice for a moment and snatched the book from her, without blinking.

"I suppose you want me to read to you again?" his mock exasperated voice permeated through the main room. Audrey closed her notebook, and sat with her head propped on her elbows.

_Now it's time to listen._

"What do you think I keep you here for?" Tifa replied, and he feigned shock. She giggled at his expression snuggled in a little closer. He gave her a dramatic sigh and opened the book.

"If you insist..." he breathed out, trying hard to keep back the smile that was threatening to take over his face, "Where should I start?" She flipped through a couple of pages and pointed.

"There," she said, and settled in a little more comfortably. He cleared his throat.

"...'After the fall, when all seemed lost'" he recited with more eloquence each time he read it, for Tifa asked often, "'The survivors stilled, bearing the heavy cost.'"

Audrey closed her eyes. The rumble of his voice calmed her, and she felt content knowing that Tifa had found someone to take care of her. Being young enough, she believed no one person should be alone.

"'They bear evil in mind and winch in the light'," he paused, to give a quick glance at Tifa's glee, "'Will they be ghosts that fade in the night?'"

"Will they?" Tifa whispered, even though she knew the answer. He shook his head, completing the pantomime of innocent theatrics.

"'But they are more than beings of blood or bone,'" he continued, peering across the book for a moment while he took a breath, "'Soul or wisp, found or unknown."

Tifa mouthed along with the last line, she'd always savored the sound.

"'There is beauty in the breakdown; flower in the spoil,'" he spoke this part with a more hushed tone, "'A chance before you, amongst the toil.'"

"Of course," she whispered, and he arched an eyebrow in response.

"'No fact is unbroken save the end of the tale,'" he recited from memory, a quirk in his mouth as he watched her, "'Though the evil is in us; good will prevail.'" She smiled at him; a flirtatious and teasing thing.

"A little idealistic, isn't it?" she asked with the tone of someone who already knows what the other is going to say. He smiled.

"Only if you forget the most important part," he replied, and she arched both eyebrows up expectantly.

Audrey opened her eyes, objectively watching to the two of them. She, perhaps foolishly, thought that was how most adults were supposed to act. Whispering secrets and the like. It was a sacred rite, an initiation of sorts. They were so... connected.

"And what would that be, hmm?" she asked, brushing aside a stray hair of his, like second nature. He smirked at her ease.

"Where the beauty lies," he replied, and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

_In the breakdown. I wonder what that means? I'm not old enough yet, not for secrets like that._

As Audrey thought, she slowly tuned out the world around her. She was brought back into the present by a firm, but not aggressive, knock on the door.

"I'll get it," Tifa said, removing herself from the couch. Rinna had come out of wherever she was hiding, and was looking around with a ferret-like curiosity. If there was a guest, Rinna absolutely _had_ to scope them out.

"Oh," Tifa said, covering her mouth right after. She was surprised, but about what, Audrey couldn't be certain. Her vantage point didn't give her a good look at the door.

"I didn't mean to interrupt anything," a male voice spoke, jarring Audrey's memory.

_Where have I heard that voice...?_

"It's ok," Tifa replied, soft but friendly, "It's a Saturday, mostly we just laze around." A small chuckle emanated from the man.

She looked over a Vincent, and there was a slight tension in his jaw.

"...Look, I just wanted to stop by," he said, hesitantly, but not without a certain strength in his voice, "...To let you know. That I forgive you, and I hope that you can forgive me." A small cry crept out of Tifa's throat, and Audrey moved a little so she could see.

She was hugging the man tightly, unable to speak. She stayed that way for a minute, and pulled away slowly.

"Yes," she whispered, eyes dry and mouth smiling, "I accept. I'm sorry." He looked around awkwardly for a moment, and then made a small movement with his hand behind him.

"Tifa!" Yuffie burst in, nearly knocking the other woman over with a flying hug. Tifa managed to pry her off, and gave her a beaming smile.

"Oh, you have to meet the family!" Tifa exclaimed, eyes wide, gesturing to the man to follow. When he moved closer into view, it was then that Audrey noticed that it was Cloud.

_I don't that strange feeling with him anymore, must have changed. That's good._

"This is Rinna," Tifa said and the girl bowed, "And that boy coloring like mad at the table is Caleb." The boy didn't look up, uninterested in the goings on of other people.

_Maybe my curse, or gift, or whatever you call that strange ability I have is gone._

"These two knuckleheads are Jeremy and Kale," she said, pointing under the table where they carried out their secret plans, "And the two girls that just ran past where Lily and Chloe."

_It can't be. Probably just wishful thinking._

"The littlest ones are Gwen, Cecil, and Freddy," she recited, counting them off on her fingers, "They're taking a nap. Tarin and Tau are probably outside." She looked over at Vincent for confirmation, and he gave her a nod. The tightening of his jaw had stopped, but he still didn't look entirely relaxed.

_I wonder if Vincent will let me look at some of those old books. I'd like to know if there were any others like me. _

"Don't forget Audrey," he said, pointing straight at her, "She'd probably like to meet Cloud too." She gave a startled look, but Vincent smiled at her, and she relaxed. Carefully she got up from sitting, and timidly made her way across the room.

_There are enough strange people out there. Maybe I'm not entirely odd. I'm not alone, that's for sure._

Cloud bent down, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you," he said, with a warm smile and calm blue eyes. She gave him as firm a shake as she could, to steady the nervousness she was feeling.

_You're not so bad after all, Cloud. Maybe almost as nice as Mr. Vincent._

"C'mon Tiff! I have sooo much to talk about," Yuffie said, unable to stay quiet any longer. She dragged Tifa towards the kitchen, and Tifa gave a quick wave before disappearing inside.

_I'll go to Cosmo Canyon, where all the books are. I'll learn things. I'll become an expert._

"So, Vincent," Cloud began, with a formality he was obviously uncomfortable with, "How are things for you?" Audrey slinked back off to her corner, where she could better observe the two men.

_Magic. Maybe that's what it is. But I'll learn all the names, all the reasons. I have to. And I'll write it all down._

"Well," he replied, staring off towards the kitchen, "Probably better than either of us deserve." Cloud blinked, and then smiled a small smile.

"Ya, you've got that right," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "But we're still young, right?" Vincent smirked.

"Right," he replied, shifting his weight, "Had to help Yuffie get rid of some materia she'd held onto. Makes sense she'd been hoarding some, huh?" Vincent nodded.

"I wonder what the planet will do now that mako and all that are gone?" Cloud continued, getting a feel for the conversation. Vincent gave a quick glance at Audrey.

"There are many ways," he answered, looking intensely, but without malice, "Many ways that magic and power can go in this world." Cloud looked at him thoughtfully and then chuckled.

"I think I just heard a crash," he said, pointing to the kitchen, "Want to check on them?" Vincent nodded, and rose off the couch. They strode leisurely towards the kitchen; Cloud leading.

_I'll figure out your secrets, when I'm older. And I'll have some of my own. I'll be grown-up and come and tell **you** stories._

"No boys allowed!" Yuffie's voice floated out of the kitchen, "Girls only!" Tifa giggled, and soon so was Yuffie.

"Did I miss something?" Cloud's voice emanated, with full out laughter following.

"You probably don't want to know," Vincent's voice finished, with more laughter.

_What a great beginning to a story. I'll write it down so you don't forget._

And with that, she opened her notebook and began hastily scribbling things down...

"_It all began with a book. A man reading words from a book, to a woman..."_

_

* * *

_Ending Themes: _Jenova for Classical Piano_ Noir (yes, I've already used this, it's just so lovely!), _Everloving_ Moby, _Pretty_ The Cranberries, and _Mercy Street_ Peter Gabriel

AN: "There's beauty is the breakdown" is the name of a VincentxSephiroth fanlisting that a writer friend (doc) of mine maintains and I thought it was such a lovely line. So I credit that line to that.

Some thanks:

**avalon-chan:** I enjoyed the emails and your reviews. You read so closely and fully. I hope this didn't dissappoint! I also hope that you write more. Idealistic dreams are never to be scoffed, but savored. Let that sense guide you in your storytelling and life as well.

**T. Pirate:** 'Lo. Even though I've prolly driven you nuts with theories and musings, you've been quite helpful. You are a testament to open-minded thinking, and I can't wait for you to get the muse again! I'll prolly see ya around lj, but I just wanted to make sure ya know I appreciate your kindness.

**ikleeshumo: **Nice to see ya drop by every now and then. You've seen the crazed evolution of my writing... insane, ne? I need to visit your website again, it's most lovely. Happy writing!

**HypernatedRikku: **First of all, your username is a hoot. Very fitting. Your manic and crazy reviews always made me appreciate the simpler parts of story telling: the reactions. I thank you for your loyalty. My only advice to you is to look outside your comfort zone. Be daring. You never know what you'll find.

**thehighwaywoman: **I believe you've glomped Vin to death. But he's so huggable, ne? Haha. I always looked forward to your reviews, they made me smile. Short and sweet and to the point. You appreciated my Vincent/Tifa leanings, and I am glad. You'll find that Yuffie is a character that grows on you after a long time (and is better portrayed outside of her teenage years...) So, when can I expect some from you? I think you would write something interesting.

**seventhe: ** First of all, you're drawing me into reading more FF8 fanfiction (I love love Mirrorfeather), and if I play FF4, I'd be reading more of that too. Your reviews were lovely scattered here and there, and you always made me feel positive. And thank you for appreciating confusion.... for I find people pretty confusing. Good luck with your writing, and I'll be looking in on that supposed webcomic one of these days.

**T. C. Linden: **You simply rock. You wrote me poetry--that rhymed no less! I know how hard it is, so to get it as a review was a big deal to me. I look forward to more of your story (you've got a knack for intrigue, my dear). If you ever have any need to discuss fanfiction, you know my email. I'm also open for a good chat! And I've yet to try some Lucia cats... going to have to search those out.

**DarkKnightSephiroth: **Haven't seen many guys of (well, that read my stories, that is) and I'm glad to see that you've been entertained at least. Your theorizing was cool, I like to make people think. Thanks for an open mind and letting me know you were listening. I noticed.

**Everyone Else: **Sorry if I didn't mention you directly. This story had generated a few more reviews than I thought it would, and this AN is really getting looong. If you would like a thank you, I'll happily send you an email, just email me with something like "Hey, I read your crazy story" and I'll reply. It's if you don't feel like going to my userpage (which you should, as I have a TON of links to great sites!). Happy writing, and thanks sooo much! You've made a little wannabe writer happy. Even if you hated this story, cause at least you're watching!


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